Pride & Prejudice
by luke-n-lorelai
Summary: Rory Gilmore has it figured out. She's back with Dean & is looking forward to a fun summer with him & her best friend, Lane. But when Tristan DuGray shows up & intrudes upon her life, she thinks her summer is ruined. Life proves otherwise. TRORY & JavaJ.
1. Preconceptions

**Title:** Pride and Prejudice  
**Author: **Laura _(c) June, 2001_  
**Rating: **PG  
**Summary:** Rory Gilmore thinks she finally has it figured out. She's back with Dean and is looking forward to a fun-filled summer with him and her best friend, Lane, in Stars Hollow. But when Tristan DuGray shows up and intrudes upon her life, she immediately thinks that her summer is ruined. But life proves otherwise.  
**Disclaimer:** Based on the characters, settings and situations created by Amy Sherman-Palladino.

* * *

_Chapter One: Preconceptions _

"Rory! Can you get that? I'm in the middle of...something!" Lorelai's voice calls down from upstairs, urging her daughter to answer the front door. Rory jumps up from her bed, tossing her copy of Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass onto her nightside table and hurriedly rushing to the front door. Her heart races at the possibility it could be Dean. It was most likely Dean. They hadn't spoken to one another since their date last night, which meant he was due for a visit or a phone call at any time.

But Dean does not have blonde hair, blue eyes, or the tendency to wear suits on a normal basis.

"Tristan? What in the world are you doing here?" Rory demands, not able to keep the disdain from seeping into her tone. She hated herself for disliking Tristan so much, but she couldn't help it. Generally she considered herself to be pretty much warm and loving, and overall a very forgiving person, but Tristan DuGrey warranted an immense amount of patience that quite possibly Gandhi himself couldn't muster.

"How lovely to see you too, Rory," Tristan grins cockily, tilting his head to one side as if confused by the look of anger possessing her ordinarily serene face. "You don't seem too thrilled by my surprise visit."

"I'm estatic. Bursting with fruit flavor. Can't you tell?" Rory retorts. "I'm the new poster girl for the Stars Hollow Cheerleading Squad, that's how full of enthusisam I am."

"Rory Gilmore as a cheerleader...now that would be an interesting sight," Tristan smirks. "Somehow I can't envision you doing cheers with your nose stuck in a novel by Tchaikovsky."

"Tchaikovsky?" Rory repeats, laughing. "He was a composer. Try, Dostoyevsky, maybe?"

"Tchaikovsky, Dostoyevsky, what the difference?"

"Tchaikovsky's name was Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky while the other was Fyodor Mikhaylovich Dostoyevsky, for starters," she says matter-of-factly, and Tristan chuckles.

"That fact that you know both of their full names is quite scary. Especially since all Russian names sound exactly the same. At least here in the U.S. we utilize a little creativity."

"Your ethnocentric outlook is doing wonders for my opinion of you, really," Rory remarks blandly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Before you enlighten me with anymore of your astounding thoughts, why don't you fill me in on the reason you're standing on my doorstoop on what would normally be a wonderful day?"

"Why would it be wonderful? Going out with your _boyfriend_ today?" Tristan asks pointedly. The events of the previous day had not been lost on him. In fact, he'd been so disoriented and upset after watching Rory chase after and then passionately kiss that Dean guy, that he'd walked right off with her schoolbooks. He hadn't realized it until he got home. Somehow he didn't think that all those carefully written notes had magically appeared in his notebooks.

"As a matter of fact, I probably am," Rory retorts. "So why don't you just get to the point and save us a whole load of trouble."

"Geez, Mary, pushy pushy. Didn't you ever learn your manners?" Tristan holds out her folder and book with a smile. "I figured you might want these. I peg you as the type to study over summer break." In reality, they had been sitting on his desk in his room, teasing and taunting him, as if laughing over his utter failure to convince Rory to go out with him. When his dad had suggested Tristan accompany him to Stars Hollow, he jumped at the chance to rid himself of the painful reminders of Rory Gilmore. The last thing he needed to be around all summer were her school books, when he was trying to move past her.

"Funny. I figured you as the type to already be sitting on a beach somewhere, hitting on anything in a bikini, yet you seem to have opted for the much less popular choice of visiting Stars Hollow for the sole purpose of returning my books. Somehow this doesn't add up. What is the catch?"

"There has to be a catch?"

"You travel all the way out here from Hartford just to give me a textbook and some old notebooks, Tristan? How stupid do you think I am?" Rory inquires, almost offended. What kind of idiot does he take her for? "What do you really want? Is this about P.J. Harvey? I'm not apologizing for not going with you, if that's what you're looking for."

"Nope, not it at all. In fact, this isn't a part of some huge plan, believe it or not. My whole life does not revolve around you," Tristan grins, running his hand through his tousled blonde hair. "My dad just happened to have some business out here this afternoon and I came along for the ride. I figured I'd give those back to you, hopefully get to check out a few hot girls around here, get some bonus points with my dad for pretending to care about the family business, you know, that kind of thing. He practically lives for people to boost his ego, anything to make him feel more important."

"Wow, I can't imagine that," Rory replies saracastically, silently thinking that it must be hereditary. She takes her books from him. "Thanks for returning these, but I have to go now. The concept of you being at my house is causing the circuits in my brain to go haywire. I stand here any longer and my head might burst."

"Who is causing your head to burst?" Lorelai's voice stops Rory as she's about to shut the door in Tristan's face. Within seconds, Lorelai is by her daughter's side, looking inquisitively at their new visitor. "Hello, and who might you be?"

"Tristan DuGrey, ma'am," Tristan introduces himself with a dashing smile. He extends his hand to Lorelai. "You must be Rory's mother. Pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard tremendous things about you." Rory rolls her eyes at Tristan, wondering how one person can go from being vile to charming in sixty seconds flat, and if Tristan is aware of how fake he is.

"Well, Tristan, I've heard things about you as well," Lorelai grins, shaking his hand. "I'd like to say they were...what was it...tremendous? But I have to say...the gossip here in the Gilmore household has not painted you as the most stellar representative of the male species. I give you one minute to prove my preoonceptions wrong by making a good first impression. And I have to state, for the record, that calling me ma'am has already earned you at least, oh, twenty demerits." Tristan stares at Lorelai, dumbfounded. "Go on, the clock is ticking!"

"These preconceptions...these would be the ones resulting from Rory coming home, telling you what an obnoxious slug I am, how I never leave her alone, and how my cocky arrogance and over-developed sense of self-importance, coupled with my apparent lack of respect for Rory and the fact I come from the same privileged upbringing which you have so carefully guarded Rory against, has driven her to the brink of insanity numerous times during the school year, correct?"

"Those would be the ones."

"Ah."

"That's all you have to say for yourself? 'Ah'?"

"Yes," Tristan replies, nodding.

"You're not even going to defend yourself?" Lorelai inquires, stupefied. Tristan laughs.

"Nope. I'm coming here to return the books that I stole from Rory because she wouldn't go with me to a concert. How can I _possibly_ defend myself now?" Tristan says, turning to go.

"I like your honesty."

"Mom!" Rory whispers harshly. Lorelai throws her hands up slightly and makes a face.

"What? I value honesty. I wasn't asking him to stay for lunch. By the way, would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Mom!" Rory shrieks this time, not bothering to try to hide her outrage at the idea.

"No, I really can't," Tristan explains, keeping his eyes trained on Lorelai. "I have to meet my dad back in town in a few minutes. I really didn't come here to bother you both, I just wanted to return the books." He backs away from the front door slowly, trying not to look at Rory. "But thank you very much for the offer."

"Well, you're welcome," Lorelai smiles. "Make sure to stop by again soon." Rory starts tugging her back into the house, eager to get her mother away from Tristan before any more damage can be done. Tristan glances back at the front door as he reaches the sidewalk, but the door is already closed and any trace of Rory is long gone. Sighing deeply, he heads off toward the main part of town to meet his father. His meeting with Mr. Dosie had to be finished by now; his father wasn't too happy about having to come all the way out to Stars Hollow to discuss investment options with an old man who owned a market. He'd complained about it the whole drive out, declaring that he didn't care how much money the old coot has stashed away or how much his boss wanted to snag Mr. Dosie as a client. Tristan had settled back into his seat and tuned him out after a few minutes, just like he always did. At least he wasn't ragging on his mother.

As Dosie's Market comes into view, Tristan practically lets out a sigh of relief. Being in Rory's town was just a little too much to take, walking along the same streets she walked along every single day and seeing all the people she must know almost as well as she knows herself. Ignoring the inquisitive looks he was receiving from a man selling fresh fruit and vegetables outside the market, Tristan scans the busy street for his father's tall, familiar form, but he's nowhere to be found. He steps inside through the doorway, feeling entirely out of place and just slightly alone. Slightly. Heading for the back office where he had last seen his dad, Tristan nearly knocks over a display of Coca-cola and an old lady in the process.

Stammering an apology, Tristan finally hears his dad's stern, monotone voice one aisle over.

"If you're interested in setting up an apointment, I'd be more than happy to assist you with any questions you may have." Tristan peeks around the corner, his eyebrows furrowing in puzzlement as he watches his father interact with a rather flirtatious, loudly dressed woman.

"If Taylor trusts you, than of course I can," Miss Patty coos, patting Mr. DuGrey on the arm. "I'd like to make an appointment with you as soon as possible." She smiles, stroking his arm again and moving closer to him.

"Are you free this afternoon?" Mr. DuGrey asks and Tristan turns away, suppressing a groan. "While I'm here in Stars Hollow, we could at least set up the preliminary work, fill out some forms, answer your basic questions, and things of that nature." Tristan rolls his eyes in disdain at the peculiar jaunt his father's tone had just taken and heads out of the market, not believing he was going to be stuck in Stars Hollow for longer than expected just because some old woman was hitting on his dad.

He's almost out of the building when someone catches his eye.

Dean.

"Damn it..." Tristan mutters, looking at the Rory's boyfriend for a moment in pain before sticking his hands in his pockets and leaving as quickly as possible. When thinking about being in Stars Hollow, he had considered the possibility of seeing Rory. The concept had delighted him and tortured him all at the same time. But the possibility of seeing Rory and her boyfriend was just too wretched to even fathom.

Shaking his head, he spots what is apparently a coffee shop disguised as a hardware store across the street.

"Might as well." Tossing one last look over his shoulder at the market, Tristan crosses the street slowly. It is going to be a very long afternoon.

* * *

"Mom. You asked Tristan to stay for lunch."

Lorelai stares back at her daughter as if completely shocked by the fact Rory is upset.

"Rory, dear, when you described Tristan to me, you forgot certain adjectives. Along with evil, arrogant, and idiotic, you should have tossed in adorably cute," Lorelai says, grinning. "He has a very nice smile. Great tousled hair look going on. He looks like he should be on some terrible daytime soap where every single person is obnoxiously and unrealistically beautiful 24 hours a day. Is there a reason you left this information out?"

"Yes, because it doesn't matter! He could be Brad Pitt and it would _not_ change the fact that he's unbearable!" Rory sits down at the table and heaves a frustrated sigh. Lorelai giggles lightly, a random thought occurring to her.

"Oh my god, what a coincidence! Didn't Brad Pitt play a guy named Tristan? In that movie! What was it? The one with that kid from E.T., 'cept he's all grown up and gonna marry that chick? And he dies and everyone's all like-" Rory shoots her mother a look to knock it off. Lorelai shrinks back overdramatically. "Sorry. No humor allowed. I forgot." She pauses, seemingly falling into deep contemplation. "But seriously! What the heck was that movie?"

"_Legends of the Fall_, Mom," Rory informs her unamusedly. Lorelai claps her hands together excitedly.

"Right! Boy, Brad was hot in that movie. What I wouldn't give to be Jennifer Aniston." She lets out a large sigh, folding her arms and sinking back into her chair. "I'm glad I'm not Courtney Cox though. Because frankly David Arquette freaks me out. Those 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials gave me nightmares."

"At least he's not doing them any more. Now you have to worry about Carrot Top."

"Yeah, he's equally scary. But no cast member from _Friends_ is married to him, so he really doesn't play into this conversation, does he?"

"Not unless David Schwimmer is hiding something."

"A definite possibility," Lorelai agrees, then looks at Rory with a devious grin. "If you were a _Friend_, which friend would you be?"

"I think I would be the duck that roams around Chandler and Joey's apartment."

"Interesting. Not what I would have chosen, but it will do. Now which one do you think I'd be?"

"At this point I'm learning toward Phoebe, though Ross' monkey is also a distinct possibility," Rory remarks and gets up, heading toward her bedroom. Lorelai stands up and follows her, determined to keep bugging her.

"Now here's the tough question. Which one would _Tristan_ be?"

"_Mom_! You're making me crazy!" Rory whirls around in her doorway and halts her mother in her tracks. Lorelai laughs lightly and throws up her hands in defeat.

"I'm just trying to save the asylum some gas money," she shrugs as if it's the most obvious defense. "When they come to get me, they can stuff you in a straight jacket as well. We can finally wear those matching mother-daughter outfits that you always refused to take part in. Maybe we could even get some kind of 2 for 1 deal or a discount on our rooms," she jokes and Rory finally cracks a small smile. "You want to hear something funny?"

"Oh, sure," Rory leans against her doorframe, realizing it's pointless to try to stop Lorelai.

"Tristan came all the way out here just to give you your books back."

"How is that funny?"

"I find it hysterical."

"It's not hysterical. It's terrible."

"Why?"

"Because Tristan DuGrey is on my home turf. I don't like it. He's invading a space which is supposed to be Chilton-proofed. A Tristan-Free zone."

"Honey, it's not like this is the invasion of Pearl Harbor. He'll be gone before you know it and will have left no damage." Lorelai retorts, then taps her chin with her finger thoughtfully, pondering something. "Though...he does have the chisled jaw line in common with Josh Hartnett, so even if this isn't an invasion maybe someday you can fictionalize the event and make a movie out of it."

"Right."

"Hey, if they can turn a tragic, important, historic event into an excuse for young girls to watch Ben Affleck romance Kate Beckinsale, I'm sure you could spin this little Tristan saga into...well, something more thrilling, glossed over and Hollywood-ized. Maybe a movie of the week? I'm sure Tori Spelling is looking for work."

"You know, you have far too much time on your hands."

"No, I just know how to maximize every minute. See, like now when I'm simultaneously harassing you and beginning to make a pot of coffee," Lorelai snorts, turning and walking toward the coffee maker. "You want some?" All she hears is Rory's door closing. "You know, it's going to be very hard to slide a whole coffee mug underneath that door," she calls. "Maybe I should just siphon it under to you through a tube?"

"Good idea," Rory calls back. Lorelai sets to work at making a fresh pot of coffee, puttering around the kitchen happily.

_So, Rory's tormentor is a total hottie with the total hots for Rory_, Lorelai thinks to herself, noting what a good tongue twister that sentence would make and therefore deciding to try it out on Sookie later.

* * *

Tristan sits down at the counter, eyeing the other people in the diner wearily. Needless to say, he felt quite over-dressed for his current location. The closest thing he saw to someone being dressed up in the entire room was a tall, thin man wearing a nice plaid shirt, khakis and a long jacket. And he looked like a real uptight dork. Tristan tugs on his tie, loosening it up, as someone sets a menu in front of him.

"Who are you?" Tristan looks up, startled, and immediately he is able to match a description with the person in front of him. Rory had mentioned Luke before; this man in front of him could be no one but.

"Do I have to present I.D. to get food here?" Tristan retorts, smirking slightly. "That's a business ploy I've never encountered before." From the look on Luke's face, Tristan can tell his comment has put him one inch away from getting yelled at. "I'm Tristan DuGrey. I'm here from Hartford with my dad. And you're Luke, right? Rory told me about you."

At the mention of Rory's name, Luke immmediately tenses up.

"How do you know Rory?"

"I go to school with her at Chilton." Recognition passes over Luke's face and Tristan bites his lip to keep himself from rolling his eyes in frustration. Was there anyone in Stars Hollow what Rory hadn't told that she hated him? "I see my reputation has preceded me."

"Yes, it has," Luke throws the towel he is holding over his shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing Tristan with harsh scrutiny. "Any particular reason you decided to make Rory's first year at Chilton such a living hell?"

"Living hell, huh? I didn't know that she had represented me _that_ badly."

"It was something I brilliantly deducted," Luke replies without a hint of humor. "You know Rory's a great girl and she didn't deserve you being so-"

"I know that," Tristan says off-handedly, looking down at his menu. "Things between Rory and I are complicated okay? I'd just...rather not talk about it." This town is already getting on his nerves. At home everyone just left him alone. Here it's twenty questions. He liked attention when he received it in his own way, but being interrogated by the owner of the diner about his actions toward Rory Gilmore was not how he had envisioned spending his afternoon. "Can I just get a club sandwich and a cup of coffee and forgo the Spanish Inquisition?"

"Perhaps," Luke replies, writing the order down on his notepad.

"Luke, you have to help me!" The bell above the door jingles loudly as Lorelai comes rushing in, looking harried, carrying her coffee pot. Both Luke and Tristan turn to look at her.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Luke asks as Lorelai comes toward him, near tears.

"My coffee maker is broken! It's broken!" Lorelai cries out, as if lamenting the loss of a dear pet. She sets the pot on the counter and gestures to it as if she expects Luke to resuscitate it.

"What do you mean it's broken?"

"I mean exactly that! It's broken! It stopped working! Right in the middle of making a wonderful pot of delicious coffee, it went bleecch and suddenly it started smoking."

"It went..._bleecch_?" Luke repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! Just like that! Perhaps it made a little whirring noise as well, but the majority of it was bleecch. And then smoke. And no coffee."

"I got that."

Tristan watches in amusement as Lorelai reaches over the counter and grabs the collar of Luke's plaid shirt. The sexual tension between them could've fueled an entire season of MTV's _Undressed_.

"You _have_ to do something! I haven't had any coffee since I was here this morning! Since this morning, Luke! It's now two in the afternoon! Do you know what this means?"

"That you should go out and buy another coffee maker?"

"You're treading a very fine line with a woman who is going through caffeine withdrawl, Luke. Perhaps now is not the best time to play games," Lorelai states, glaring at him.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take," Luke holds her gaze, neither of them moving. Tristan finds himself staring at the both of them, infinitely interested in the scene playing out before him. After a few moments Luke blinks and Lorelai shrieks happily.

"Ha! You blinked first! I win!" She throws her arms up in triumph and then hits the counter with her hand. "Coffee please!"

"I hate you," Luke grunts and turns away, reluctantly beginning a pot of coffee. Lorelai relaxes and finally notices Tristan sitting right next to her.

"Hey, I know you!"

"Hi, Miss Gilmore."

"Call me Lorelai. What happened to meeting your dad?"

"Change of plans," Tristan tells her, forcing a smile. "I thought I'd come check out this place. Rory raves about the coffee here. I see that you're a fan as well."

"Me? A fan? You poor clueless boy," Lorelai laughs. "You have _no_ idea."

"I'm sure your recent outburst over the demise of your Mr. Coffee has enlightened him to your incredible insanity," Luke interjects and Lorelai smirks at him, choosing not to reply.

"So, Tristan, what did you order?"

"Uh, a club sandwich," Tristan tells Lorelai. Lorelai makes a face.

"You better tell Luke to leave the bacon off of it," she says, then leans over the counter and swats Luke in the back. "Make sure that to leave the bacon off of Tristan's sandwich, Luke."

"You hit me and then expect me to change his order?" Luke asks. Lorelai nods emphatically.

"Luke, your bacon is bad. No one deserves to have that put on their sandwich."

"Though I might, since after all, I am apparently devil incarnate," Tristan interrupts and Lorelai grins.

"Self-deprecation, I like that," she laughs. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm full of surprises."

"There's nothing _wrong_ with the bacon here," Luke states, glaring at Lorelai.

"Maybe not in a health code violation you're gonna get sick if you eat this way, but you make it too crispy. It's like eating rawhide."

"And you would know, because of course you've tasted rawhide."

"No, but I have enough of imagination to guess what it would taste like, and you know what it would taste like?"

"What."

"Your bacon."

"You have a problem with the way things are cooked here, why don't you come back here and do it yourself," Luke says flatly and Lorelai reaches out and touches his arm comfortingly, giving him a sympathetic look.

"The rest of the food here is fabulous, Luke. Coffee's the best in the world. It just doesn't change the fact that the bacon..." She twists her face into a particularly unattractive expression and makes a so-so gesture with her hand. Luke gets a look on his face like he's going to explode so Tristan hurriedly interrupts.

"It's okay, I'll have the bacon on the sandwich."

"Wise man," Luke nods and turns to go back to the kitchen. Lorelai pretends to hold up an imaginary checklist in her hand.

"Tortures daughter at school...calls me ma'am and makes me feel like I'm 50...sides with Luke when it's clear that I'm right...Tristan, the con side of your list is getting off to quite a good start," Lorelai teases and Tristan smiles sheepishly.

"You two always bicker like this?" He inquires, diverting the attention from himself. Lorelai nods yes.

"It's a tradition. Generally I just wear him down until he screams out in frustration and storms away. I should really videotape it someday and sell it to the independent film channel. I'll title it: _Plaid_. It's an enigmatic enough title to snag all the pretentious art house geeks but silly enough to pique the interest of the average movie goer. I think it would be a success." Tristan stares at Lorelai for a moment almost in wonder, suddenly feeling that Rory's uniqueness was definitely derivative of her one-of-a-kind mother. Lorelai wavers under his gaze, becoming self-conscious. "While I can now definitely put your big blue eyes in the superficial category within the pros column, you're making me feel all under a microscopish. Do I have something on my face?"

"No, sorry. I was just-"

"Baffled by her ability to just keep babbling?" Luke supplies as he sets two cups of coffee in front of the pair. "I've always wondered how she manages to talk that much without running out of breath."

"Rory does the same thing," Tristan remarks softly, looking down into his cup of coffee with a faint smile. Lorelai holds back her thoughts from becoming verbalized, knowing that Rory would not appreciate her asking Tristan exactly how much he worshipped the ground Rory walked on. She exchanges a look with Luke, who seems to get what she's thinking. "Though I am beginning to think that she is still an apprentice with much to learn from her master," Tristan continues, aware of the heavy silence.

"How very Star Wars."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You a fan?"

"Definitely."

"Which one is the best?"

"_Empire Strikes Back_."

"Another one for the pro column! Tristan, I think you've just been knocked down one notch on the public enemy scale."

"What number am I now?"

"Oh, six, I think."

"Who's number one?"

"Martha Stewart or Dr. Laura. I think they're tied. Though on Friday nights my mother tends to get the number one slot."

"Don't get along with her?" Tristan asks, not thinking that it was too personal a question. Lorelai seems like she was open to anything.

"Hardly ever will you see the two of us enjoying a wholesome _Full House_ family moment. Although on that show, there wasn't a mother, so maybe I should used a different metaphor." Lorelai shrugs, taking a long sip of her coffee. "Anyway, parental relations are not my strong point."

"Know the feeling," Tristan mutters, picking up his own mug of coffee.

"I take it your parents aren't up for any accolades?"

"Not unless there is an award given for being the most self-absorbed, pompous, suffocating people on the face of the planet," Tristan replies honestly, his voice growing a little tight. He runs his fingers around the rim of the cup, wishing that he hadn't just said that. Lorelai chuckles.

"Don't hold back now, tell me how you really feel," she jokes, trying to lighten the mood up a little.

"Sorry," Tristan half-smiles, deciding to change the subject. "Rory's really lucky to have a mother like you. I can't imagine what it'd be like to have your mom be your best friend."

"But at least now I don't have to add Momma's Boy to the cons column. One pitfall has been avoided," Lorelai says, trying to put him back at ease. She could visibly see Tristan tense up when they had been talking about his parents. "But speaking of Rory, I have to go retrieve her from the market." Lorelai waves for Luke to come over. "Can I have two of the usual? I'm going to go snatch up my daughter and be back in a jiffy."

"What exact amount of time is a jiffy?" Luke asks, trying to be a pain.

"It's one thousandth of a second, technically," Tristan informs him, earning him an annoyed look in return. "I think."

"Okay, so I'll be back in a whole bunch of jiffys," Lorelai picks up her coffee pot and heads for the door, then turns around and comes back. "On second thought, I'll leave this here for now. But I will take this." She grabs her half-full coffee mug and is out the door between Luke can protest. A bell rings from the kitchen and Luke goes to get Tristan's sandwich.

He sets it in front of Tristan with little flourish, knocking a few chips off of his plate.

"Thanks," Tristan mumbles. His mood had been lifted slightly by Lorelai's antics, but the thought of Rory coming in within a few minutes had suddenly made his appetite disappear. Part of him, the confident part that was used to getting the girl he wanted, still felt that if he kept pursuing her she'd eventually change her mind about him, but the other part was beginning to waver. And that half of himself was growing more and more dominant, wondering if he should just retreat to a corner, nurse his wounds and try to forget about Rory Gilmore.

Luke hasn't moved from his spot, standing across the counter from Tristan and quietly judging him. Tristan feels his gaze and looks up, annoyed.

"What?"

"Is teasing Rory your kindergarten tactic of telling her you're really crazy about her?" Luke inquires, appearing slightly amused. Tristan, however, is just irked.

"Is bickering with Lorelai _your_ kindergarten tactic of telling her you're really crazy about her?"

"I don't like Lorelai."

"I don't like Rory."

"That's a lie. How long have you liked her?"

"How long have you liked Lorelai?" Tristan counters, his tone bordering on snide.

"Shut up." Luke walks away, deciding that he definitely did not like that kid.

* * *

Tristan shifts on the uncomfortable stool, picking at his sandwich, and seriously debating whether or not to just split before Rory and her mom came in. He mentally wars against himself a few moments longer before practically jumping up off the stool, digging a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and tossing it onto the counter.

"You don't want that wrapped up to go?" Luke's voice stops him and it's in that second delay that he spots Lorelai and Rory walking across the street. Too late. His heart drops to his feet and he feels like he's frozen in place. The door to the diner opening jolts him into action and he quickly turns away from the pair, nodding for Luke to pack his sandwich up.

"What's he doing here?" Rory whispers to her mom. Lorelai shrugs, pretending to have no idea. She knew that if she had told Rory that Tristan was at the diner, they would've been going home and eating Pop Tarts for lunch, and she wasn't about to let that happen.

"I ordered our food already," Lorelai says to Rory as they claim their usual table. "Maybe you should ask Tristan to join us," she suggests innocently. Rory shakes her head no but Lorelai kicks her foot gently underneath the table. Rory reluctantly gets up and walks over to Tristan, tapping him on the shoulder. He turns around, a little surprised that she's talking to him by choice.

"My mom wants to know if you want to come sit with us," Rory says and Lorelai groans in frustration. Leave it to Rory to do as told but still finding a way around it.

_That's the problem with having a smart kid_, Lorelai notes inwardly.

"Um, thanks, but I was just leaving," Tristan replies. Rory glances at his still quite full plate with confusion.

"But you didn't eat anything," she points out.

"Astute, very astute," Tristan retorts. "Luke's getting a styrofoam container for it. I figured I better find somewhere else to go before you placed a curse on me or something." Feeling a little bad, Rory sits down next to him.

"I'm sorry about being so horrible before, Tristan, I just...you totally wrecked everything with Paris, you know that, right? She hates me now and I officially have no friends in the entirety of Chilton. I have a iron-clad excuse never to talk to you again. Most people would agree with me on this."

"Yet here you are still talking to me. What does that mean?" Tristan asks, the vague sound of hope mixed with his taunting tone. Rory shrugs.

"It means that I'm too nice of a person to truly hate you and that my mom, being just plain old crazy, thinks you should forget the carry-out and come sit with us."

"Thanks for the offer, Rory, but I should still go."

Luke re-appears and hands Tristan a container.

"Hey, Rory. This jerk bugging you?"

"No, not at the moment," Rory replies. Luke nods and promptly walks away, not looking at Tristan. "I see you've met Luke."

"Yes, that I did. We had an interesting exchange and I believe he has taken a disliking to me. Imagine that, someone not liking Tristan DuGrey." There's something sad, something hurt in his tone that catches Rory off-guard and she is instantly reminded of the night at Madeleine's house when he had kissed her. Then he'd been so sweet and so vulnerable. Then he completely destroyed any friendship they possibly could've had with the P.J. Harvey fiasco.

"So, how was the P.J. Harvey concert, by the way? Did you even go?" Rory is eager to dispell the strange awkwardness that had suddenly emerged.

"Yeah, I went," Tristan tells her, picking up his sandwich and setting it inside the box, closing the lid.

"Who'd you go with?"

"No one," he mumbles. Rory looks at him in disbelief.

"You went to a P.J. Harvey concert all by yourself?"

"Yeah. You said she was good so I figured I'd check it out."

"So, what'd you think?"

"I didn't like her. It was just something about her style and the way she performed," Tristan replies honestly and Rory gives him a look of reproach. "At least I tried it, don't go looking at me like I'm an idiot."

"I'm not looking at you like you're an idiot. I'm looking at you like you're a fool with bad taste in music."

"If it helps me at all, I'd just like to state for the record that I am going to an Ani DiFranco concert in July with my cousin."

"But do you like her music?"

"The political material is great. And in general, women with strong opinions turn me on," Tristan grins at Rory cockily and she can't stop herself from hitting in in the arm.

"I should've known there was a typically male reason behind it all," she cries in dismay, shaking her head as if it were the saddest thing she'd ever heard. Tristan laughs gently and stands up, fixing his tie and his coat.

"Yeah, you know how deep I am," he mumbles, running his hand through his messy hair. If he stayed a second longer, Tristan knew that any attempt to get over her this summer would be impossible. "Anyway, your food is ready so I'm gonna go. Have a nice meal with your mom. I'll...I guess I'll see you in September."

"Oh, okay..." Rory replies, a bit taken aback at how abruptly he ended their conversation. She had thought it was going rather well. "Thanks for returning my books."

"Sorry for taking them," he says, opening the door. He waves good-bye to Lorelai, telling her it was nice to meet her.

"Nice to meet you too, Tristan," she calls as he leaves. Rory walks back over to their table and sits down across from Lorelai. "You were having quite the chat over there. Dare I ask what you were discussing?"

"Nothing important. Just P.J. Harvey. That was the extent of the bonding. Sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not disappointed. It was a great opportunity to observe the interaction."

"You planning on a new career working for the Discovery Channel?"

"Maybe Animal Planet. Then I could meet the Crocodile Hunter. I could investigate how much speed he takes every day in order to maintain that insane amount of energy and excitement he has about facing potentially fatal animals with big nasty teeth." She makes the sharp pointy teeth gesture derived from _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ and Rory giggles. "Anyway, I think maybe you should call Tristan and get together over the summer. He doesn't seem _that_ bad."

"I'm not going to call him," Rory says.

"It might not be so bad to have a friend when you go back to school next year, Ror," Lorelai states. "Even if it is your former enemy."

"I'm not that desperate for Chilton acquaintances just yet. I think I'll wait until school starts to worry about that. Right now I'm just going to hang with Lane and Dean and forget the whole Paris-Tristan mess that awaits me back at school."

"Okay, denial and avoidance it is then," Lorelai declares, picking up her hamburger. She takes a bite and then swallows, letting silence settle on the table for a minute. "I just think Tristan really needs a friend, more than you know. And you need a friend and it seems like-"

"Mom!"

"What?"

"You're concentrating on my life just a little too much here. Any chance you're trying to avoid thinking about a certain question Mr. Medina asked?"

"No," Lorelai adamantly denies, but Rory knows she's hit the nail right on the head.

"So why don't we talk about that then?"

"You know, this is the strangest shaped french fry I've ever seen in my life," Lorelai holds a fry up, intentionally ignoring Rory's statement. "It's very funky." Rory smiles in satisfaction, knowing that the Tristan issue had been officially dropped for the rest of the day.

Feeling relieved, she glances out the window. What she sees is Tristan and his father walking by, apparently arguing about something. There is a look on Tristan's face that Rory had never seen before, one of true anger, resentment and unhappiness. She watches as his father strides ahead of his son, leaving Tristan to mutter something under his breath and then slowly follow Mr. DuGrey toward their car.

Lorelai looks up from her french fries to find Lorelai gazing out the window, except now there's no one there.

"Don't tell me you're seeing dead people again," she jokes and Rory is bounced back to reality.

"What?"

"I lost you there for a minute. What were you looking at?"

"Oh...nothing." Rory says and begins eating, trying desperately to get her mind off of Tristan DuGrey.

_To be continued..._

* * *


	2. Surprises

_Chapter Two: Surprises ..._

"Rory."

"Dean." Rory greets her boyfriend with a smile, standing on tiptoe to kiss him hello. He avoids her seeking lips, grimacing. Rory's face falls. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Dean repeats angrily, as if not believing she doesn't know. Rory stares at him blankly, completely confused. "Todd was walking by Luke's today and he saw you with that guy. Tristan or Mateo or Stefano, or whatever soap opera name he has. The same one I saw you with when I came to your school. I thought you said you hated that guy. That nothing was going on."

"Nothing is going on!" Rory denies, surprised by Dean.

"Dean, Tristan was just in town with his dad on business. He returned those books to me, you know, the ones I told you he stole? That's all." She smiles faintly, reaching out and touching Dean's arm. She tugs him inside and shuts the door. "I wasn't happy to see him either."

"Then why were you eating lunch with him? Todd said you looked really happy."

"Okay, first of all...I'd like to know how you know all of those soap opera names. Second of all, I wouldn't rely on Todd for an accurate appraisal of any situation-"

"What's wrong with Todd?" Dean interrupts, defensive. Rory gives him a look.

"Dean. Come on."

"Okay. Good point. But that really doesn't change anything, Rory. You were still with him."

"Me and my mom just went to Luke's for something to eat. He was there killing time cause his dad was still...doing whatever his dad does. My mom made me talk to him. We talked for like a millisecond and then he left."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It's nice of you to get all worked up and jealous, Dean, but let's save it for a time when it actually applies. Which will be never, because you know I wouldn't do that to you and frankly I'm surprised you'd even think that." Rory says. "Although it is quite amusing because you breathe funny when you're mad."

"I breathe funny?" Dean laughs lightly and gives her a quizzical look, taking off of his jacket. He's clearly more relaxed than he was a mere minute ago. Rory takes his coat and tosses it over the arm of the couch as they go into the living room.

"Yeah, really funny." Rory is about to say something else when Lorelai comes bounding into the room, obviously on a sugar high of some sort.

"Hey, it's Nark!" She exclaims, waving to Dean.

"Nark?" Dean asks, confused.

"I decided to shorten up the whole Narcolepsy Boy nickname for you. Nark has much more of a ring to it, I think," Lorelai explains.

"You do realize of course that Nark is also short for narcotics officer."

"Or it could also be one of the sounds that Pinky makes in response to something The Brain says. Although I think that might be Narf."

"Either way, it's a multi-purpose nickname! Boy, Dean, you really cashed in."

"Guess I did," Dean grins, running his hand through his hair and glancing sideways at Rory.

"Imagine if I had caught you trying on Rory's clothes. Your nickname would be far less fun!"

"Oh, I don't think Rory's clothes would fit me. Too short. I'd have to raid your closet," Dean jokes. Both Rory and Lorelai laugh.

"So, what's new today, you two?" Lorelai plops down on the couch, eager for some gossip. "Knock over any banks lately?"

"No, but Dean did come in here and accuse me of two-timing him with Tristan!" Rory exclaims, clapping her hands with enthusiasm. "It was a great show."

"He _finally_ caught you at it after all this time, huh? Rory, I thought you and I had discussed how to be more discreet," Lorelai pretends to scold her daughter, and Rory hangs her head. "Have I taught you _nothing_?"

"I know...I don't deserve my tramp merit badge," Rory says sorrowfully. "I think you should repossess it."

"Naw, you can keep it. I mean, after all the hard work you put into making that whole "Tristan-is-the-devil, he's annoying, he tortures me and makes my life at school hell" story up, the story you've been keeping up _all_ year long, there's no way I could take it back. Just because Dean finally saw through it all and realized that all the times that you've dissed Tristan were really just decoy disses, doesn't mean you don't deserve the badge! Keep it and wear it with pride." Rory and Lorelai both look at Dean pointedly, who smiles sheepishly.

"Kay, I get the point. I was crazy to even consider Rory doing a thing like that to me." He sits down in the armchair. "Just blame it on usual guy stupidity."

"Oh, don't worry, we already have. Though I think in this case it's exceptional guy stupidity. The usual stupidity isn't this bad." Lorelai smirks, patting Rory on the knee and getting up. "What are you two up to tonight, besides all that 'we're reunited' gushy mushy stuff that gushy mushy couples like you do. When you're not accusing each other of being unfaithful, that is."

"We're mushy? Need I remind you that you have enough daises up in your room right now to last another entire generation of flower children? You could power a really bad '60's flashback with those." Rory points out. Lorelai blushes and grins happily.

"Yes, I could, couldn't I?" She says coyly, dancing around a little.

"That's the happy dance. She's been doing it a lot lately," Rory explains to Dean, who is looking at her mother strangely.

"Do you have a happy dance?" Dean asks Rory teasingly.

"Yes, I do. It looks kind of like that," she says, gesturing to her mother. "Except I look like even more of a fool."

"Ah."

"The happy dance is genetic, I think."

"I see. Do you have any other dances that I should know about?"

"No, think that's it," Rory thinks for a moment.

"Oo! I have a sad dance," Lorelai offers. "Although it's not really a dance. It's more of a routine." Both Rory and Dean look at her expectantly. "You know in the opening scene of Bridget Jones' Diary when Reneé Zelleweger is sitting in her apartment belting out "All By Myself" and flailing about?" Both teens nod. "It's kind of like that. Except with better music and more pizazz."

"More _pizazz_?" Dean repeats, disbelieving that anything could be more over the top than that.

"Oh yeah. I have a light show, backup singers, a dance troupe, a real microphone...the works. If I ever became a manic depressive, I could turn the whole sad dance into a huge traveling act. Become a famous lounge singer and make lots of money. Course I'd be too depressed to enjoy it, but at least Rory's Harvard would be all paid for."

"Gotta love a woman with a plan," he grins along with Rory. The doorbell rings before Lorelai can elaborate any further on her plans for a concert tour.

"Race you," she looks at Rory and Rory immediately is at the ready, as if this is something that occurs quite frequently in their household. "1...2...3!" They both make a break for the door, Rory yelling that Lorelai made a head start. Lorelai reaches the door first, opening it up as Rory slides to a stop beside her, almost falling over. Max is standing on the front porch, looking amused by his greeting.

"We were racing. I won," Lorelai tells him with a smile.

"She cheated," Rory says, turning away from the door and heading back to Dean.

"I did not!" Lorelai exclaims in her own defense, pretending to be seriously offended. "Dean, did I cheat?" Both Rory and Lorelali look at him expectantly. He looks torn.

"I honestly...couldn't say one way or the other. I wasn't really watching that closely," Dean says, trying to give an answer that wouldn't upset either one of the Gilmore women. He fails. Both glare at him.

"Nark is lying. I didn't cheat and he knows it," Lorelai snorts with overdone contempt, turning to Max. He gives her a questioning look.

"_Who_ is lying?" Max asks with a chuckle, trying to get her to repeat the name. She couldn't have called Dean _Nark_.

"Nark," Lorelai says. "Dean over there," she gestures toward him. "We call him Nark here in the Gilmore house. Except Rory, she calls him Dean."

"So just you call him Nark."

Lorelai hmms and haws for a minute, as if trying to figure it out.

"Yeah. I guess so. But you can call him that too, if you'd like. It's fun to say."

"I think I'll stick with Dean. Hello, Dean, by the way," Max looks around Lorelai and gives Rory's boyfriend a small wave hello.

"Hello," Dean replies, waving back awkwardly.

"So, what are you two doing tonight?" He asks Rory, trying to strike up a conversation with his former student.

"We're going to the park to rollerblade. Rather, he's going to rollerblade until I pull him down along with me as I go crashing to the sidewalk. It should make for a fun evening."

"She's about as athletic as I am," Lorelai says, shrugging.

"You're not athletic?" Max asks, pretending to be shocked.

"Not in the slightest bit. Though I can kind of play baseball. But not well."

"That's okay. I'm bad at sports too."

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get my rollerblades," Rory interrupts, hurrying to her bedroom. Lorelai and Max turn to Dean, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" He inquires, feeling pressured to make some conversation.

"Staying here and watching a movie."

"Going out to a poetry reading."

They both speak at the same time, then look at one another in surprise.

"I thought we were going to watch Matt Damon do math stuff tonight," Lorelai says, looking confused.

"I thought...I thought we agreed to go to that café in Hartford I was telling you about for that poetry reading," Max replies, furrowing his brow. "I must have misunderstood what we were...well that's okay. We can stay here and do that, if you want to. I mean..."

"No, no...we should go. To the poetry thing. I like poetry. Poetry is fun! Right, Rory?" She asks her daughter as she comes back into the room, lugging her rollerblades.

"What's fun?"

"Poetry. All the rhyme, all the funny language, all the figurative mumbo-jumbo...it's a hootenanny!"

"Yes...poetry is certainly a hootenanny," Rory replies, eyeing her mother as if she's on crack. "And why are we talking poetry?"

"Max is taking me to hear some," Lorelai replies, trying to sound giddy with excitement.

"We don't have to go if you won't want to, Lorelai. It's not a big deal-"

"No! Let's go. It'll be fun. I need some culture."

"Are you sure?"

"Unsure!" Lorelai exclaims, clutching her arms tight to her body and mocking out the old deodorant commercial. She is met with strange looks by all. "You guys don't remember..." She waves it off. "Nevermind, my joke is lost on you poor unknowledgable souls. Okay. Off to poetry we go!" She gestures wildly to the door and ushers Max along. "You two be careful doing your rollerbladey thing. Dean, if Rory comes home with any kind of bone broken, I'm simply going to beat you over the head with the nearest heavy object."

"Got it," Dean salutes.

"Have fun!" Lorelai calls back as she and Max leave. The door closes and Rory turns to Dean, shaking her head.

"She's going to have a terrible time."

"Not a poetry fan?"

"Not unless it's Dr. Suess."

* * *

"Rory?" Lorelai stumbles into the kitchen, looking around in search of her daughter. She rubs her sleep-filled eyes and glances at the clock. It's already noon. "Oops," she mumbles, and goes over to Rory's open bedroom door. "Rory, hon?" Rory isn't there. Confused, Lorelai is suddenly more awake. "Rory? Where are you?" Suddenly the sound of the front door opening sends Lorelai rushing back to the foyer. Rory is walking in slowly, fumbling a take-out bag from Luke's and two large cups of coffee. "There you are!" Lorelai exclaims, taking the bag from Rory. Rory smiles gratefully.

"Here I am," Rory says. "I see you finally decided to join the ranks of the living."

"Yeah, sorry hon. I didn't mean to sleep this late. What's all this?"

"I figured since the coffee maker is broken, I better get my butt down to Luke's and get you some coffee before you woke up. And while I was down there, it occurred to me that by the time you woke up, it'd also be lunchtime and you'd want to go to Luke's anyway so I grabbed you some lunch and killed two birds with one stone."

"You're the best daughter ever. Although this whole killing birds thing is a little morbid. I have some questions about that."

"Drink some coffee, Mom," Rory hands her a cup and Lorelai smiles.

"Did I mention best daughter ever?" Lorelai says, breathing in the heavenly aroma. "Do you think they make perfume that smells like coffee? If not, I want to bottle this smell and sell it."

"I don't think they do. But I know they make candles that smell like coffee."

"Oh yeah, I know. Have one upstairs in my room."

"I think I may have bought that for you," Rory says, trying to remember. She shrugs. "So how did it go last night with Max? Did you die of boredom?"

"No...it was good. It was nice," Lorelai says.

"Really?"

"No!" Lorelai stops lying and practically throws her head down onto the table. "It was the most boring night of my life! All these really thin guys dressed in black and wearing berets and these women who apparently couldn't manage to look in a mirror...it was like something out of a bad, clichéd movie. You'd think that poetry readings really weren't like that, that it was all a silly image, but no. Not at all. This one was really that way. And the poetry...oh god, the poetry! It didn't even rhyme, Rory!"

"A lot of poetry doesn't."

"I know! But this stuff didn't even make sense! It was like performance art without all the cool strange stuff going on."

"You've never seen performance art."

"Yes I have! Remember in She's All That, with the midgets and the underwear and all the strange flowy stuff? And the garbage? Well, there were no midgets dancing around at this place!"

"So, not something you'd do again."

"No."

"Did you and Max talk about the whole marriage thing?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Too busy listening to poetry that had no midgets."

"You have to get past this midget thing," Rory says. "Wasn't it _weird_, not talking about Max asking you to marry him? That's kind of a big thing to ignore."

"I didn't _ignore_ it. When we got in the car, he opened his mouth to say something but I told him I was still thinking and that we shouldn't talk about it for the rest of the night."

"And he went along with that?"

"Didn't have a choice in the matter," Lorelai says. "But he was cool with it. He says I can have all the time I need."

"So if you took twenty years, he'd be happy to wait."

"Why, yes, of course. But enough about Max and all that. How was rollerblading? Any monster bruises in strange shapes?"

"I got a weird one that looks like Satan on my knee."

"Like Satan? What does Satan look like?"

"Like a devil with horns. He's possessed my knee."

"Oh dear. You know any one who does knee exorcisms?" Lorelai motions for Rory to come over to her. "Let me see."

Rory lifts up her leg slightly and Lorelai gasps.

"My god, that really does look like the devil."

"Told you so."

"And apart from Satan taking over a body part, how did the evening go?"

"Very well, I think," Rory smiles, then stops, suddenly remembering something. "Oh! I have something to show you!" She races to her bedroom. Lorelai sits down at the kitchen table, taking a long sip of her coffee.

"There was this guy in the park with this little booth set up, and he was doing caricatures of people for only three bucks!" Rory calls back to her mother as she searches for the drawing. She lifts up some stuff on her desk, trying to remember where she put it, and accidentally knocks the schoolbooks that Tristan had brought back to her the day before onto her bedroom floor. "So Dean and I sat down and had him draw us, just for laughs," She continues, bending down to pick the books up. She notices that something fell out of her English folder and picks it up. It was an envelope with her name on it, and it didn't look familiar. Opening it up, she gasps and sits down on her bed.

"You get lost in there, Rory?" Lorelai calls after Rory is silent for a minute or so. "Rory?" Lorelai gets up and walks into her daughter's bedroom, wondering what's up. She finds her still sitting on her bed, staring at something in her hands. Lorelai sits down next to her and gasps as well. "Oh my god, let me guess! The guy drawing the pictures drew you like you were really ugly even though you're not, with like warts and green skin and stuff, so you and Dean both got really upset and demanded your money back. Then it turned out that the guy was really from some bad hidden camera show and after he told you, he gave you these tickets for being such good sports."

Too stunned to even comment upon her mother's crazy imagination, Rory simply hands her the note.

"Wow...Tristan got you U2 tickets?" Lorelai looks at her daughter in awe. "What a huge gift! And look, he says they're for you and Dean. How nice of him," Lorelai remarks, though inwardly puzzled as to why Tristan would encourage Rory to go out with Dean if Tristan liked her.

"This can't be real," Rory mutters, shaking her head. "Why would he do this?"

"To apologize for the P.J. Harvey thing. She's opening for U2," Lorelai points out, gesturing to the letter as if the answer were obvious. Rory rolls her eyes. "What? He says so right here."

"I know what he wrote, it just...it doesn't make any sense. Tristan DuGrey doesn't _give_ me tickets to anything. He's not even nice to me. It has to be some kind of trick. And if he really did do this, he's going to expect something in return." Rory sticks the tickets back in the envelope, shaking her head no emphatically. "No. These are going back. I'm mailing them back to him and simply saying no thank you."

"No thank you to U2 tickets? Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but you're completely _insane_. You send those back and I'm going to disown you. Even if they are from Tristan...do you know how expensive these are and how hard they are to get? You should take this opportunity! And you'll get to see P.J. Harvey too!"

"That's exactly my point, Mom. I go to this concert and I immediately owe something to Tristan. I don't want to have that hanging over me. So no, I'm not going."

"Rory."

"I said no!"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Tristan really is trying to make nice? He brought your books back and apologized, didn't he? He was civil to you yesterday. You actually had a decent conversation with him, did you not?"?

"Yeah, for like two seconds, before he bolted. That hardly constitutes a major change in our dynamic. We have talked civilly to one another before, you know. And look what came of that. Paris hates me more than ever."

"You keep saying how Tristan is so terrible because he cost you Paris' friendship. Can I ask you a question?"

"No."

"Why do you even want to be Paris' friend in the first place? She's a pill, Rory. The only reason you want to be her friend is because you're one of those people who can't stand to have people not like you. Everyone has to love you. But that's not the way the world works! Everyone _should_ love you, but there's going to be people like Paris all throughout your life who are jealous of how great you are instead of enjoying how great you are, and Paris is one of those people. Now, Tristan, on the other hand, clearly has come to terms with and appreciates your said greatness and he's trying to tell you so by apologizing for his previous behavior! And I think you should accept. If not for your sake then for mine."

Rory stares at her mother as if she has just proposed selling Rory to a tribe of wandering gypsies for some magic beans.

"What?" Lorelai asks. "If I can't go to a U2 concert, then I think I should be able to live vicariously through you. And Dean likes U2, right? Why deny him the opportunity to see them just because Tristan is the one who gave you the tickets?"

"You really think Dean is going to want to go to a concert that Tristan gave me tickets to? He hates Tristan," Rory states. "Just forget about it…I'm going to give them back. Apart from the fact that I don't want to keep them, it wouldn't be right. Tristan shouldn't be trying to buy my friendship."

"He's not trying to buy your friendship. He's trying to buy your forgiveness. Two entirely different things," Lorelai tells her daughter as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Why don't you just keep the tickets for awhile. Think about it a little? Maybe the idea will grow on you."

"Tickets to what?" Lane asks, walking into Rory's bedroom with a curious grin.

"U2 tickets," Lorelai takes the tickets and holds them up for Lane to see them excitedly. Lane rushes over and takes them from her, staring at them as if they are made of gold.

"Oh my god. You got U2 tickets? You're going to see Bono in concert? You're going to see The Edge?"

"Larry and Adam too," Lorelai adds.

"How did you get tickets? Why wasn't I notified?" Lane shrieks, jumping up and down. "Oh my god, and he concert is in Boston. You're going to go to Boston? Oh, Rory, I'm so envious of you!"

"Don't be," Rory states blandly, frowning. "I'm not going."

"What?"

"Tristan gave her the tickets."

"Evil Tristan?" Lane is confused. "Rory, if he's giving you U2 tickets, he's hardly evil. Wait - is this one of those "you can only go if you go with me" things like he tried to pull with the P.J. Harvey concert?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

"There is no problem," Lorelai says.

"There is a big problem."

"One which I think you should stop thinking about right now and familiarize yourself with the concept of free concert tickets to see one of the best bands in the world."

"I don't even really like U2," Rory points out. "They're not exactly my favorite band. I don't even know any of their music that's not on the radio."

"I'll lend you all of my cds. Though my copy of The Joshua Tree is almost worn out, I scratched it up so bad." Lorelai looks at Lane as if she has committed blasphemy. "I got it when I was like ten! I wasn't exactly familiar with proper cd care at the time. I was too busy trying to hide it from my mother."

"How about we just stop talking about this?" Rory suggests and deliberately changes the topic, putting the tickets back into the envelope again and stuffing them into her desk. "Lane, are you ready to go the mall?"

"You guys are going shopping?" Lorelai asks, pouting.

"Only if you agree to let me use the car. I don't really feel like taking the bus," Rory replies, looking at her mother hopefully. Lorelai debates for a few seconds inwardly and then shrugs.

"Sure, what the hell. I don't think I'll be needing the car today. I shouldn't be driving today anyway, my brain is too tired." Lorelai flops back onto Rory's bed, putting her hand to her forehead.

Lane looks to Rory for an explanation.

"Went to a poetry reading last night with Mr. Medina. There was no flying garbage or midgets so she's not too happy." Lane only looks more confused. "Forget it. Did your mom clear it for you to come to the mall?"

"Yes, she did, actually. I went to Korean Bible School this morning and proved to her that all of my homework was done, and she reluctantly gave me permission. She said she's calling the security guards at the mall and tell them to keep an eye out for me, make sure I'm not hanging out with any boys."

"She wasn't serious."

"Couldn't tell."

"Okay. Well, wanna go now then? I'm in the mood to buy a new book."

"Oh, surprise surprise," Lorelai mutters, groaning and rolling over onto her stomach.

"Go to Luke's and get some more coffee, Mom. You can gripe about how awful poetry is and Luke will agree. You can exchange relentless diatribes and you'll come home feeling 100 better." She leans over her mother on the bed and kisses her head. "I will be back later."

"How much later?"

"I don't know!" Rory calls back as she hurries out the door with Lane.

"Not an acceptable answer!" Lorelai sits up on the bed.

"Before dinner!" The front door shuts and Lorelai groans again, falling back onto the bed. She had a feeling she wouldn't be moving from this spot for quite some time.

* * *

Lane holds up a sheer black lace top, grinning.

"Imagine the look on my mother's face if I wore this," she says, clearly taking delight in the idea.

"She'd have a heart attack, Lane," Rory shakes her head with a giggle, waiting for Lane to put the top back down before heading out of the store.

"I wish I could just have your mom as my mom, just for like a week. Just to have a taste of the freedom. Your mom totally respects and trusts you," Lane tells Rory, frowning.

"Things at home really getting on your nerves, huh?"

"I haven't seen Henry in three weeks, you know that. How good could it possibly be?" Lane points out. "She refuses to let us talk on the phone for more than half an hour at a time and we have yet to see each other without adult supervision. It's making me crazy. And this is with a guy they approve of!"

Rory sighs, feeling sorry for her friend. Mrs. Kim meant well, but it was hardly fair to Lane to be trapped by her mother's traditions and strict rules. Suddenly she stops in her tracks, spotting someone quite surprising just across the way.

"Speaking of Henry, there he is," Rory says in disbelief, pointing. Lane follows her gaze and breaks into a large smile. "Wow, that is _so_ weird. We were just talking about him and how you never see him and all of a sudden, he's here. That's something that my mom would call –" Rory stops, searching Lane's face for any sign of surprise but doesn't find any. "Wait…Lane, did you know he was going to be here?" Lane just blushes faintly and shrugs.

"He might have mentioned something…" Lane says innocently. Rory smacks her on the arm.

"You are such a dork! You knew!" Rory cries out, laughing. "That's why you called me to go shopping today. Does Henry know you're here?"

"I might've mentioned something about going shopping as well. In passing." Lane says guiltily.

"So all that talk about your mom's rules keeping you from seeing each other more often, that was just to butter me up so I would feel sorry for you and let you go off with him, right?" Rory asks, raising her eyebrows and eyeing her friend.

"No, not really. I don't want to ditch you, Rory, don't be silly. I was telling you about the whole thing with my mother because it's the truth and because if we saw Henry here, I thought maybe you wouldn't mind, you know, if he hung with us?" Lane eyes her best friend wearily. "I'm sorry. I'm a bad friend."

"No, Lane, you're not. I think it's really funny and cute, actually, you and Henry pretending to bump into one another in the mall. And I don't mind if you hang with him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you what. You go over to Henry and pretend like the whole thing is a huge coincidence that you both happened to be here, and I'll go to the book store. You guys should go see a movie together or something."

"Rory, I don't want to leave you-"

"No, don't protest. I think you should see something ultra-violent with lots of bad words and sex, just to make today a true teen rebellion day. Go see Swordfish. It has a horrible script and lots of explosions. And John Travolta's evil, which is fun." Lane looks truly torn, not wanting to leave Rory alone but also finding the idea of spending alone time with Henry very appealing. Rory sees her indecision and pushes her some more. "Go on, Lane. You've sat through enough of my Dean stories. It's about time I get to return the favor and listen to some tales of Henry. But first you have to have some to tell."

"You really mean it, Rory? Because I won't go if-"

"Lane! Get your butt over there!" Rory nudges her slightly and Lane grins.

"Okay. Want to meet for some dinner at like five thirty? I really don't feel like going home and eating tofu tonight. Since it is a day of rebellion and all."

"Sure. I'll call my mom and tell her we'll be back later," Rory says. "Let's meet back right here. And bring Henry along too, if he can stay around for awhile longer."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay by yourself? It's like four hours alone time," Lane comes back to Rory after walking a few steps away. Rory chuckles and pushes her back in Henry's direction.

"I'll be fine. It's a big mall. Worse comes to worse, I will buy a book and some coffee and curl up somewhere. It'll be just like I'm at home, except I'll be in a center of mass commercialization and exploitation rather than amidst my pillows. I can watch all the thirteen year old Britney Spears wanna-bes parade around. It'll be great."

"Okay…five thirty then…" Lane says slowly. She's about to waver again when Rory stops her from talking.

"Go! Henry has seen you and he's looking at you like you're insane. And although he'd be right in that assumption, I don't think that is something you want to burden your relationship with at this stage."

"Okay, I'm going." Lane starts to leave and then races back and gives Rory a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Ror. You're the best!"

"So I'm told," Rory mumbles as Lane hurries toward Henry happily. She watches them exchange hellos and then heads for the nearest book store with a satisfied smile. Seeing Lane happy made her happy.

Rory heads to the nearest pay phone before doing anything else, making sure to call Lorelai. Slipping a quarter into the payphone and dialing her number, Rory waits patiently for her mom to pick up the phone.

"Hello, you've reached a Gilmore Goddess."

"Hey Mom," Rory greets her, smiling.

"Hey there, babe! I thought you were shopping?"

"I am," Rory says.

"Good. I thought maybe the car broke down and you were stranded in some strange gas station in the middle of nowhere, you and Lane just sitting there like perfect targets for crazed serial killers. That wouldn't have been good."

"No, it wouldn't have. But no need to worry, we made it to the mall without any problems."

"Good to know."

"Is it okay if Lane and I stay here for dinner?"

"Only if you bring me back something useless and fun that I'll end up breaking in two days," Lorelai laughs.

"I'll make sure to stop by Spencer's and buy you a WWF action figure or something," Rory jokes. "But seriously, can we stay a little longer?"

"Sure," Lorelai says. "I have no problem with that. Does Mrs. Kim know or am I going to have an angry Korean woman banging on my door a few hours from now, demanding to know where her daughter is?"

"I'll make sure Lane calls her," Rory replies, hoping that Lane will at least remember to call her own mom during the day. An angry, worried and suspicious Mrs. Kim is never a good thing. Rory debates telling her mom about Lane being with Henry, but decides to wait until she gets home. That way if Mrs. Kim did come by, Lorelai wouldn't have to lie to her.

"Okay."

"Has Dean called?" "Not yet. I was just down at Luke's and I saw him at the market. He's bagging groceries like a madman."

"Big sales today?"

"Yeah, Taylor got a new shipment of something or other in today. Whole town's gone mad. You'd think Madonna was there or something."

"And I'm missing it. Darn."

"See what happens when you leave Stars Hollow for one day? You miss all the good stuff," Lorelai teases.

"I should've known better. I think I'll just stay in town for the rest of my life."

"Good plan. So what time are you going to be home today?"

"I don't know exactly. We're going to leave after we eat. Probably around 7 o'clock, I think?"

"All righty then. Oh!" Rory can practically hear her mother hitting her forehead. "Damn it all!"

"What?"

"I should've given you money to buy a new coffee maker! I totally forgot!" Lorelai groans. "I'll have to go tomorrow after work and pick one up."

"Sorry," Rory sighs. "I don't have enough of my own money with me to get one."

"I'll make sure to harass Luke for as much coffee as humanly possible, that's all."

"He's going to kill you."

"Naw. I'll wear him down and he won't have the energy."

"True, true. Okay, I'm gonna head to the bookstore now."

"Okay. Don't buy anything with big words or in different languages! It's summertime! Buy a magazine. A really bad teen one with 'N Sync on the cover," Lorelai warns and Rory giggles.

"I make no promises," she replies. "I'll see you later, Mom."

"Bye, hon. Love you!"

"Love you too," Rory says before hanging up.

After a bit of a walk, Rory makes it to Barnes & Noble and contently sets herself to the task of wandering endlessly through the vast amount of books. She ponders buying a chronicle of Celtic myth and folklore, then moves on to peruse the history section. She fingers through a heavy volume about Elizabethan England before deciding to check out what collections of poetry the store held.

It took a bit of searching, since the set-up of the store was mildly confusing, but eventually finds what she's looking for, along with something, or rather someone else, she never expected to see. Tristan is standing in the aisle, evidently searching for a particular book amidst the selection, and his concentration at his task made Rory stop to watch him for a moment before saying anything. He looked so different, wearing a light blue polo shirt and a loose pair of khaki pants. He looked quiet and thoughtful, his jaw set tightly as he searched with deep concentration she rarely saw from him. His hair is more messed up than usual, Rory noticed as he ran his hands through it. It was weird seeing him by himself, Rory being the one able to step back and observe rather than being the one under the microscope.

Tristan feels someone watching him almost immediately and glances furtively out of the corner of his eye to see who is looking at him. Seeing Rory, he winces inwardly and tries not to let on the fact that he knows she's there. Maybe he can just walk away and pretend he hadn't noticed her.

Not knowing what to say but feeling like an idiot just standing there, Rory tries to muster an intelligible greeting.

"Tristan, hey," she says, cautiously approaching him. "This is the last place I expected to see you. Since when did you develop a taste for poetry?" Tristan glances at her then averts his eyes, pretending to study the binding of the book he's holding.

"Why, you figured me as being someone who couldn't read or something?" He asks a bit tightly. He had just seen her yesterday, and from how that went, he had thought he wouldn't be seeing her again until the start of school. On the ride home from Stars Hollow, Tristan had told himself that the issues between himself and Rory were closed. Figures that life wouldn't even give him the chance to convince himself he was over her.

"No, I never considered you being _illiterate_," Rory shrugs, feeling slightly anxious. She moves next to him, trying to focus on the titles before her. "I just pegged you as someone to be looking through the books about muscle cars or picking up issues of Playboy from the local newsstand, that's all."

"I'll have you know I've never so much as lifted the cover of a Playboy, Rory," Tristan tells her, putting a book back on the shelf and taking another one down.

"I somehow don't believe that," Rory snorts. This irks Tristan, thinking that her opinion of him must be lower than he originally thought.

"Well, it's not exactly as if I've ever had the need. As long as I can remember, I've had girlfriends willing to keep me more than entertained," He retorts with a smirk, knowing it will agitate her. Sure enough, she rolls her eyes in disgust.

"How typical," Rory moves away from him. She doesn't know what it is about Tristan that gets to her, but he always was able to unsettle her and make her feel confused. He had the habit of always setting things just slightly off-kilter so she couldn't regain her footing. She is silent for a moment, then decides that now is as good a time as any to tell him she doesn't want the tickets. "Listen, thanks for the tickets and everything, but I can't accept them."

Tristan turns to her, not surprised. He rubs his neck, sighing.

"Look, Rory, don't get all upset about it. I just meant the tickets as a kind of apology. It doesn't really mean anything. I don't want anything from you in return."

"Right."

"Look, I know that you think lowly of me, Rory, but there's really nothing more to it than that. It's a peace offering. That's why I tried not to make a big deal about it. I knew if I did you'd think I was trying to get something out of it."

"That's why you stuck them in my books and didn't tell me about them?"

"Yeah," Tristan says. "I knew if I said anything about them you'd turn them down before I even put the tickets in your hand."

"And you were right," Rory retorts. "What would you have done if I hadn't opened up my books until September? That's a lot of money to throw away on chance, don't you think?"

"Rory." Tristan looks at her. "Please. Knowing you, I don't think I ran the risk of having you dump your books in your closet and ignoring them."

"Good point," Rory concedes. "I'm still not taking the tickets. I'll send them back to you as soon as I get home today."

"Do you have to be so stubborn all the time?"

"Yes."

"Rory, just take the tickets, go and have a good time with your boyfriend and let's just get some closure to this mess, okay?"

"Closure?" Rory repeats, looking at him with confusion painted all over her normally serene face. "What do you mean, closure?"

"I mean…" Tristan turns away quickly, then tries to pretend like he's just moving to look at a different book. "It's clear that you don't want to be friends with me, Rory. So I just figured I'd just say I was sorry, maybe do something so you wouldn't look back on me as being quite so horrible and that'd be that. Just go to the concert."

"I don't want to go to the concert."

"Rory, don't turn down the concert for no good reason. The only reason you don't want to go is because the tickets are from me. That's stupid."

"So now I'm stupid?"

"Rory…" Tristan is exasperated. "Do you want me to give them to someone else and then have that someone else give them to you? Would that really make things any better?"

"No, it wouldn't. And I'm still not going."

"Then at least just keep the tickets. If you don't use them, fine. Scalp them, sell 'em on E-Bay, I don't care. Just don't give them back," Tristan mutters angrily. "I don't know why you have to make everything into such a big deal. It's just a concert." He opens up the book he's holding and tries to look through it, but can't even fathom concentrating right now. Frustrated, he snaps it shut violently and puts it back on the shelf. Rory watches him, wondering what is going on in his head. Tristan DuGrey was immature, sometimes idiotic, annoying…but he was more than that. And that's what made him so perplexing. Tristan continually bewildered her and it drove her crazy.

"Fine," Rory finally mumbles, making up her mind to give up the argument and simply send him back the tickets anyway. A few minutes of silence pass, neither of them knowing if it was better to just make an excuse and leave or to say anything else. Tristan makes a move to go but Rory suddenly speaks. "So, you're into Walt Whitman now?"

"What?" Tristan looks confused.

"When I first saw you. You were taking a Walt Whitman poetry collection off the shelf."

"Oh. Right." Tristan sticks his hands in his pockets, looking like he really just wants to make an escape. "I take it you like him too then."

"Just finished re-reading Leaves of Grass last night for the third time," Rory informs him and Tristan can't help but smile lightly. "It's funny that you like him. I wouldn't think that his poetry would appeal to you."

"I am he that aches with amorous love; Does the earth gravitate? does not all matter, aching, attract all matter?" Tristan quotes effortlessly, grinning as he sees Rory's astonishment. "You're not the only one who sings the body electric, Mary," Tristan smirks, feeling a bit of his trademark confidence surging back at having surprised her.

"Well, you have officially stunned me, Tristan. All at once you've shown to me that you have an appreciation for fine literature while still maintaining your previous childishness," Rory retorts, annoyed that he had slipped into calling her Mary again.

"It takes talent," he says, pretending to polish his fingernails against the soft fabric his blue shirt with a pompous attitude.

"So what are you doing here all alone?" Rory inquires. "Or should I expect to have another one of your little girlfriends come running to your side any moment now? Should I get out of the way so they have a clear pathway to hang on your arm?"

"I could ask you the same question. Where's Dean?"

"I came here with Lane."

"Where's Lane?"

"With Henry."

"Ah."

"Don't say that like you know about Henry. You don't know about Henry."

"As a matter of fact I do," Tristan corrects her. "Lane's his tentative girlfriend, status pending according to further family investigation." Rory is taken aback. "I do know him, Rory. He does go to our school. I ran into him at Abercrombie earlier."

"So you knew I was here?"

"No, that I didn't know. He just said he was meeting a girl here later. And after you said Lane was meeting someone named Henry, I, being so smart, filled in the blanks as to Lane being the girl Henry was going to meet. See how that works?"

"Move over Sherlock Holmes," Rory remarks sarcastically.

"Lane is your best friend, right?"

"Oh, and now Hercule Poirot better watch his back too. Matlock and Colombo are nothing compared to you. Jessica Fletcher is in awe."

Tristan gazes at Rory for a moment as she rattles off fictional detectives easily. He's clearly fighting an inner battle with himself. Don't do it, Tristan. You'll regret it later.

"I'm going to Barney's to get some coffee. You want to come?" He offers. Damn it, you went ahead and did it.

_To be continued..._

* * *


	3. & Misunderstandings

_Chapter 3: … & Misunderstandings_

"Coffee?" Rory asks, trying to quickly hide her surprise at Tristan's suggestion. Playing it cool, she simply shrugs. "Sure. I can always go for some coffee."

She follows him out of the book store, her mind and her pulse both racing. What is she doing? Is she making friends with Tristan? This marked the second day in a row where he had both surprised and infuriated her, and the second day in a row when she found herself acting remotely friendly toward him.

"So, out of curiosity, how much coffee have you already had today?"

"Actually, not that much. Our coffeemaker broke yesterday, so getting coffee involves traipsing down to Luke's. I only went down once before I came to the mall with Lane."

"So, only one cup?" Tristan inquires, knowing that she's had way more than that.

"No...three when I was at Luke's, and I brought two cups back home with me, one for my mom and one for me."

"You're sad."

"And I'm not even as bad as my mom yet. Give me a couple years."

"Well, all that caffeine must work wonders, because your mom is great. If she started you this early on the stuff, you're going to be twice as hyper and three times as interesting."

"I think my mom might have put coffee in my baby bottle when I was an infant. Along with some creamer, I think," Rory jokes, laughing. They stop in front of the counter at Barney's, surveying all the various coffee choices. "What are you going to get?"

"Espresso," Tristan says. "You?"

"Mochachino with extra whipped cream and chocolate on top," Rory replies with a grin.

"Any more sugar and caffeine you'd like? You might as well down some pixie stix and no-doz while you're at it, Gilmore," Tristan teases her. He tells their order to the worker behind the counter and turns back to Rory.

"No, I save the hard core stuff for Friday nights. It gives me Saturday and Sunday to recuperate from the caffeine crash so I'm not hungover in school. Plus, after dinner with my grandparents, I need a release. Mom and I go home and play coffee pong on the kitchen table before resorting to straight shots of 80 proof Columbia grown."

"That'll be $7.49," the girl looks at Tristan expectantly as she slides the two cups of coffee over the counter. Tristan takes his wallet out of his back pocket and pays her before Rory can even protest. She quickly digs some singles out of her pocket and hands them to him.

"I'm not allowed to pay for a cup of coffee?" Tristan looks at Rory in disbelief.

"No, you're not. Us Gilmore girls always pay for their own drinks. Besides, you pay and you'll be made into my enabler. I can't put that burden on you."

"Okay, fine." Tristan reluctantly accepts the few bills. They walk away from Barney's, holding their coffee cups carefully. The heat from the liquid is burning against Rory's skin, so she suggests they sit down and wait for their coffee to cool off a bit. They find the nearest bench and plop down, setting their coffee down and shaking out their hands. "She forgot to put those stupid cardboard things around them so your skin isn't seared off," Tristan remarks.

"We could probably sue. You want to?"

"Sure. Let's. How much you think our pain is worth?"

"Oh, at least a million. But after lawyer's fees, and taxes...we won't see a lot of that, so we should claim emotional distress along with personal injury and up it to five million."

"Sounds like a good plan. You should be a lawyer."

"Isn't that what you're going to be?" Rory asks, looking down at her coffee and realizing that the whipped cream has already melted away in the steaming liquid. "You looking to partner with me? Because I'm not letting you into my firm just because we're friends, you know."

"Yeah, that's me. Future member of the bar, Tristan DuGrey. Can hardly wait." Tristan sounds none too happy. He picks up his coffee again, takes off the lid and blows on it gently, hoping to cool it down.

"I take it being a lawyer is not your choice occupation," Rory observes and Tristan laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, what _do_ you want to do?" Rory asks gently. Tristan looks at her for a moment, then looks away. He's quiet for a moment before answering.

"I don't really know. But I know I don't want to do that."

"Well, at least you can check one thing off your list. You can probably check off lion tamer and plumber from your list too." She takes a long drink from her cup.

"I think I would make a good lion tamer," Tristan kids around. "What about you, what do you want to do?"

"Something in journalism," Rory replies a bit vaguely, not sure if Tristan really wants to hear about it. "I want to travel, see the world. Report about things that people need to know about but never do." Tristan gazes at her intently, and Rory feels uncomfortable. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. It's just amazing that you know exactly what you want to do with your life. You have such direction."

"No I don't," Rory replies, blushing faintly.

"Yes, you do. You already know what school you want to go to, you have your career planned out…I would love to be like that."

"You don't have to have everything mapped out, Tristan," Rory tells him, feeling a bit strange having such a personal conversation with Tristan, of all people. But the chance of him opening up to her amazed her; she never would've thought it possible. "It's completely normal to be 16 and not have a clue what you want to be doing when you're 40."

"Not if you're a Chilton student and a DuGrey," Tristan mutters, picking up his coffee and twisting the lid on top of the cup a bit nervously. "My family wants me to go to Princeton and then to Harvard Law. They've got my life planned out for me – I don't really even have to think about it. So why bother, right?" He says, shrugging.

"You don't have to do what your parents want you to. Look at my mom and what she did. And she's perfectly happy."

"That's your mom," Tristan half-smiles. "Lorelai is a bit unique. I…am not."

"You _are_ unique, Tristan," Rory tells him, her voice sounding more strong than she had intended. "And you're calling my mom Lorelai?"

"She told me to," he says. "Why, does it make you uncomfortable or something?"

"No, I just didn't…no. Doesn't bother me at all. She tells everyone to call her Lorelai."

"Okay," Tristan smirks at her as she stammers. He stands up and takes a sip of his coffee. He glances around, checking out which stores are nearby. "So, I came to the mall to further expand my extensive musical collection. You game?"

"Excuse me?" Rory wasn't really listening to him, too focused in on her own thoughts at that moment.

"You wanna go look at CDs?" Tristan asks more simply, amused by Rory's behavior.

"Sure," Rory replies. "I have nothing else better to do."

"Thanks," Tristan says sarcastically. "You sure know how to make a guy feel wonderful."

"I try," Rory grins and bounces ahead of him, tossing her empty coffee cup into the trash can.

"You did not finish that whole thing already," He looks at her in astonishment. Rory tosses him a look over her shoulder and continues on. "Sick, Rory, sick." He puts his still half-full cup into the garbage and follows her down the walkway to the Sam Goody.

Rory wanders through the folk music section, not even looking at any of the music selection. Her gaze is trained on Tristan as he is searching through the Pop/Rock CDs. She feels like she's in a parallel universe; the whole day is beginning to feel surreal. She had come to the mall with Lane, and somehow she was now hanging out with Tristan DuGrey. That _is_ what I'm doing, aren't I? Rory asks herself, not even sure. Neither of them had really said that they'd spend time together, but it appeared to be happening.

Rory finds herself studying him carefully, from the way his head tilted as he read CD titles to the way he rested his weight on one foot as he stood there. In the little time I've known him, Rory thinks, I don't think I've ever really looked at him. It was odd, but true. She'd always brushed him off without really thinking about it. But watching him now, Rory found herself honestly wondering what is going in his mind and truly wanting to find out. Tristan intrigued her and for the first time, she felt like she wanted to take the time out to find some answers.

Slowly walking over to him, Rory glances at the CDs he is looking at and takes a deep breath in preparation.

"What are you looking at?" She asks, trying to act like she hadn't been intensely pondering his very existence a few seconds ago. "The Doors?" Rory peeks over his arm and reads the title of the CD he's holding. "I didn't think you'd be into them."

"Are you?"

"Not that much. I've listened to them a few times. I think they're amazing...just not my usual thing."

"Kind of strange way to look at it." Tristan says.

"You can have respect for a band even if they're not your favorite music to listen to," Rory remarks.

"I suppose so," Tristan agrees and puts the cd back.

"You're not going to get it?"

"What? Oh, no. I already have all of those songs. I have all the original albums at home. I play them on my dad's old record player from high school," Tristan explains. "It was just a new collection cd that I hadn't seen before." Rory is surprised by Tristan yet again. The DuGreys had enough money to buy the finest electronic musical equipment available. They could probably afford to have the remaining members of the Doors come and play live at their house if they wanted to. Yet Tristan was playing records on a forty year old record player. "I was actually looking to see if they had an album out from VH1's Storytellers. Scott Stapp sang the lead for a whole bunch of numbers and it was really amazing."

"Scott Stapp from Creed? I think I saw that episode. It was really eerie how much he sounded like Jim Morrison," Rory says. "I had to turn it off after awhile, it was freaking me out."

"Yeah, it was kind of freaky," Tristan agrees. They smile at one another for a moment, then Tristan looks away.

"What else do you like to listen to besides the Doors?" Rory inquires.

"What do I listen to? Uh...well, a lot of different things," Tristan is caught a little off guard by Rory's interest. The events of the day were still sinking into his consciousness; he could barely believe Rory Gilmore was standing next to him, talking to him like they were actually friends.

"Way to be specific, Tristan," Rory rolls her eyes, laughing lightly. She walks a little ways away from him, her eyes drifting over the E section. "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't know...I listen to a little bit of everything. Mostly early alternative...Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, STP...I like Everclear, Oasis, Live...older rock music is great too - Clapton, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd. Simon & Garfunkel were geniuses. Oh...and The Barenaked Ladies are great."

"Old school or new?"

"Definitely old. Gordon, Born on a Pirate Ship...I think Maroon is a sell-out."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. It's too mainstream, too formulaic. The songs don't have that same edgy, fun, quirkiness that their earlier work does. Some songs still manage to capture their essence, but overall it just feels so strained and clean. I realize that they became famous in the U.S. with their music as it is now, when Stunt came out, but they were famous a long time before that while still doing their own thing."

"But famous in Canada."

"What's wrong with Canada?"

"It's not the U.S."

"Really? Wow...and all this time I thought..."

"Shut up. I meant that the United States is usually a market that is the hardest to conquer for musicians. You have success here and you know you've made it."

"I know, but it doesn't change the fact that Canada has great music regardless of what people here think," Tristan states.

"Oh, I definitely agree. I mean, the whole surge of female empowerment on the musical front in recent years really has its roots in Canada. Sarah McLachlan, Jann Arden, Chantal Kreviazuk, Melanie Doane, Alanis Morrisette...the list goes on."

"Do you listen to chick music a lot?"

"Chick music, he says," Rory scoffs. "Up until that point, I was really beginning to suspect you had a brain in that head of yours."

"Sorry to disappoint. Still an idiot," Tristan jokes.

"I take it you have a problem with...what was it...'chick music'?"

"Not with all of it. Just with the music in the Sarah McLachlan made-to-play-on-Dawson's-Creek variety. I don't think it really is bringing anything new to the table. It all sounds the same. Poe, on the other hand, is amazing."

"You like Poe."

"Yes."

"I think I may have to sit down."

"You want me to diss P.J. Harvey again so you feel normal?"

"No, that's all right. I think I'm okay now. You just knocked the wind out of me for a second there." Rory winces like she's in pain, clutching her chest.

"How about we change the topic to what kind of music you like, then," Tristan suggests, laughing. "Before I give you a heart attack." "What do I like?"

"That would be the question, yes."

"I like bands like DMB, Pat McGee Band, Guster...and I like my chick music, of course," she tells him pointedly. "Elliot Smith and Duncan Sheik...I love New Wave, or Modern Rock, or whatever you want to call it. The Cure, Depeche Mode, Morrissey, Duran Duran, Men at Work...The GoGos are great, the Bangles are even better."

"The Bangles? Rory...that's truly terrible."

"You're lucky my mom didn't hear you say that. You'd be a dead man."

"She's a big fan?"

"She's still planning on joining the band," Rory says. "We saw them in concert at the beginning of the year."

"Oh yeah...I heard about that one. Your mom yelled at Louise and Madeleine, didn't she?" Rory nods. "I would've paid to see that."

"Where did you hear about it?"

"I don't know...you just hear things," Tristan replies coyly, shrugging. "Word gets around."

"That's a great part of going to Chilton, the endless amount of gossip. I really love it." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. Tristan looks at her for a moment and then starts laughing. "What?"

"I just can't believe you like the Bangles."

"There's nothing wrong with liking the Bangles. And who are you to talk? You like _Oasis_, for god's sake."

"There's nothing wrong with Oasis, apart from them being egotistical, immature, Beatles wannabes," Tristan smirks. "Doesn't mean I can't like a song or two. At least I'm aware of how bad they are. Unlike you, who I'm sure will defend the Bangles until the day you die."

"You really need to stop making fun of my taste in music now."

"Who's making fun?" Tristan fakes innocent. "You know what I think?"

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you think at all."

"Oh, ha. You're so hysterical that Robin Williams is in awe of you."

"I know, he writes me three fan letters a week. It's a nice thought, but it's getting kind of annoying. Anyway, you were thinking?"

"I think we should pick out a cd for each other. You have to buy whatever I pick out for you and listen to it."

"And you have to buy whatever I choose for you?" Rory finishes, a number of wicked ideas coming to mind.

"Yeah, that's how it goes."

Rory thinks it over for a minute, not sure if she wants to waste 15 bucks on something Tristan picks out, but decides to chance it.

"Okay, deal." Tristan extends his hand and they shake on it. He heads off in search of the perfect CD for Rory, obviously already having a couple of ideas ready. Rory starts back at the A's and Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes catches her eye. She picks it up, chuckling inwardly. Tristan would absolutely kill her. She'd never met a guy in her life who liked Tori. After debating for a minute, Rory puts it back down, deciding it was just a little too cruel. She actually wanted to buy something that he might like, something they could talk about.

An idea strikes her and she races to the J's. Tristan appears next to her moments later, holding a CD behind his back. Rory turns to him, handing him her selection. He smiles and hands her his choice.

"The Tragically Hip," Rory reads, looking at the red and black cover of Trouble at the Hen House. She flips it over and skims over the song titles. "This looks interesting."

"Jude, huh?" Tristan looks at his own cd skeptically, then raises his eyebrows at Rory. "You like this?"

"You will too," Rory replies assuredly, just feeling that he will. "Trust me."

"Okay..."

"Should we go buy these then?" Rory suggests, trying not to laugh as Tristan reads the back of the cd case. Sometimes his facial expressions were priceless.

"This guy wrote a song about Rick James?" Tristan asks in disbelief.

"Not really _about_ him..." Rory says, tugging on his sleeve. "Come on. It was your idea to do this. No backing out."

"All right," Tristan follows her up to the cash register, a bit wary of her choice. He had only made the suggestion in the first place to irk her, he hadn't really thought she would follow through. But she was, and now he was going to have to listen to Jude, whoever that was. He glances at Rory, sighing. Well, if she likes it, it's definitely worth a shot. It might be good…

* * *

Rory laughs hard and almost spills her cup of coffee all over herself. This one is from the Dunkin Donuts in the food court.

"She didn't really do that!"

"Yes, she did," Tristan replies, leaning back in his chair. "It's the god's honest truth."

"I don't believe you. Madeleine did not superglue her fingers together."

"In the fourth grade, I swear. Ask anyone. It took three days for her to get them apart. It was really funny, because she felt so weird about the two fingers being stuck, she kept the other two...kind of away from them, I guess? She was walking around school with her hand in that stupid Star Trek signal the whole time. She'd go to wave hi to someone and she'd end up looking like a Vulcan or something. We called her Trekkie for the rest of the year."

"So, you Chiltonites were cruel even in childhood," Rory shakes her head in overdramatic dismay and clicks her tongue in disapproval.

"Well, we needed the practice so that by the time we got to the really competetive grades, our claws would be sharpened and our witty barbs finely tuned," Tristan remarks with a teasing smile, crossing his arms over his chest with an arrogant air. Something across the way catches his eye as Rory downs the last of her coffee. "So, Mary, you feel like proving you're up to a real challenge?" Rory turns and looks where he's pointing.

"You've got to be kidding."

"I happen to know they have an air hockey table in that arcade. Whoever wins buy the next round of coffee. You up for it?"

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, DuGrey," Rory stands up. "I am the Empress of the Arcade. The reigning queen of all things requiring quarters."

"Oh really?"

"You're underestimating me. I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm kidding around. I'm not."

"I know better than to underestimate you, Rory," Tristan stands up and pats her shoulder in a condescending fashion as he walks by her. "You say you're good, I'll take your word for it. But you're missing a vital piece of information that would figure very greatly into the equation."

"Which would be?"

"You're going to be playing against the King."

"Elvis? Where?" Rory looks around as if searching for a man in a white sequined jumper. "Oh, I'm sorry...looks like Elvis has already left the building."

"Very cute," Tristan smirks. "We'll see who's laughing later." They practically run over to the arcade, trying to beat one another to get there first. Tristan digs into his pocket for loose change as they approach the air hockey table, but Rory beats him to it. She sticks fifty cents into the slot and retrieves the flat, thin, air hockey puck. The little scoreboard above the table lights up, showing the score of zero to zero.

Rory and Tristan face off, each suddenly focusing in intently on the game before them. Within seconds Tristan sneaks a goal past Rory, who groans.

"What did I tell you?" Tristan gloats as Rory again retrieves the puck and sets it back on the table. Before Tristan can even return his attentions to the game, Rory easily shoots straight across the table and the puck slips neatly into the thin slit. It clatters down noisily and Tristan immediately protests. "You can't do that!"

"That's what you get for your bravado," Rory sticks her tongue out at him. "It was your own fault for not paying attention."

"Evil."

"Thanks for the compliment."

"Does that mean you were complimenting me all those times you referred to me as evil?"

"No. You're a different kind of evil. I'm evil in the best sense of the word. Clever, painfully witty, classy. Grade-A evil. I relish in my evilness and pull all my evil deeds off with a smile and style. You're second-rate evil."

"Hmmm...I guess there's an inner snob in you after all," Tristan says, bending over the table to reach the puck as it slides to an awkward stop just out of both of their reaches. "You should fit in better at Chilton next year if you can just harness that and bring it out some more."

Rory laughs bitterly even though she knows Tristan is just messing around with her.

"Trust me, I'd rather not fit in and remain the outcast than become a true Chiltonite, if you don't mind."

"Believe me, I don't want you to change either. You're the only person at Chilton who has an ounce of originality. I like you just the way you are."

Tristan's comment shakes Rory considerably and she stops moving entirely, opting just to stare at him. The puck slides right past her and she doesn't even notice.

"2-1!" Tristan exclaims triumphantly, then notices the look on Rory's face. "Rory, it's just one goal. Hardly the end of the world."

"What?" Rory suddenly comes back to her senses, realizing she's making a fool of herself. "Oh. You scored."

"Yes. I did." Tristan says, raising an eyebrow at her. "You okay?" His words about Rory had come out so naturally; he hadn't even thought about them. Even now, it still hadn't occurred to him what he had said.

"Me? Oh yeah. I'm sorry. I just got distracted for a second there."

"Sure...any excuse for letting that goal squeak by, right?" Tristan laughs and Rory forces herself to laugh along awkwardly. They begin playing again, and by the end of the allotted time, Tristan has beaten Rory by a score of 8-5.

He merely smirks at the outcome, stepping away from the table without a word.

"You're not going to gloat?" Rory is waiting for him to open his mouth and tease her about him winning, but nothing comes. "I think something alien has taken over your body."

"Do you want me to rub it in your face or something? I can, if that's what you really want," Tristan offers.

"No, that's perfectly all right. No rubbing necessary. Just surprised, that's all."

"You've been saying that a lot today."

"That I'm surprised?"

"Yes, or something along those lines."

"Well, when Tristan DuGrey is being nice to me, there's just more surprises than at Christmas," Rory remarks. "It's amazing that we haven't killed each other today. Though I think if you _had_ taunted me about losing that game, you would've lost a body part."

"Then I guess I'm lucky I took the high road," Tristan says. "It's very desolate up here. Kind of lonely. I see you have a summer home set up here on the high road though. You frequent here often? Ah, yes...they've even erected you a monument."

"I don't know about that one..." Rory replies, feeling slightly embarrassed. She looks away trying to conceal how uncomfortable she feels, and what she sees delights her to the core. "Oh! Skeeball! I love Skeeball!" She runs over toward the Skeeball lanes like a small child, leaving Tristan behind in her dust. He stops and gets some tokens from the machine and then walks over to her. She's watching some kids play, the bright flashing lights reflecting in her clear blue eyes. Tristan hands her a couple ot tokens and she grins. Not even bothering to protest the fact he bought them, she slips them into the slot happily. 9 wooden balls roll down and the scoreboard lights up.

"You gonna play?" Rory stops as she picks the first ball up, glancing at Tristan. He realizes he had been staring at her and quickly gets back into gear.

"Yeah, of course," he mumbles quickly and deposits his own tokens into the machine. Halfway through his game, he stops to watch Rory again. She's rolling like an expert, if there is such a thing as a skee ball expert.

"You really are the Empress of the Arcade," he observes, laughter dancing in his eyes. Rory nods.

"Told you so," as she bounces in another 50 points, upping her score to 360. She uses her last chances up and racks up another 100 points.

"That's the highest score I've ever seen anyone get." Tristan rolls his last ball up the ramp and gets a measly 20 points. "I only got 190 points."

"It took years and years of practice and a vast amount of money wasted on worthless tokens," Rory explains. "My mother is a skeeball fanatic. You know in Dogma how God comes down to Earth in human form to play skeeball? That would be her. If she was a god."

"I have a feeling that if Lorelai was a god, the whole world would look like that huge room made of candy in Willy Wonka."

"One of her favorite movies!" Rory collects her tickets and Tristan's from the machines and hands them to him. "These are yours."

"Rory, you got like twenty of them for your game and I only got two."

"You bought the tokens, your tickets," Rory says. Tristan can't stop himself from laughing. She is so infuriatingly delightful. Or delightfully infuriating. Either way, he hadn't had such a great day in a very long time. Rory moves to a Mortal Kombat game next, earning another strange look from Tristan. "You play this game too?"

"I'm an arcade child, what can I say. I'm not very good at this one though. Mom wouldn't let me play it until she thought I was old enough to handle the advanced button combinations for the special tricks."

"Nevermind the blood, gore, and violence...she was concerned about the combos."

"Well you don't stand a chance of winning if you don't know how to work them!" Rory exclaims, giggling. "And yeah, I guess there was the whole violence thing too. You want to play?"

"I don't know. I don't think my fragile ego could withstand another beating from you."

"Your ego? Fragile? Those two words don't belong anywhere in the same vicinity."

"Well, it would actually be three words, cause you kind of need to include the word 'your' in their to have that insult make any sense," Tristan points out.

"Duly noted," Rory replies and takes hold of the controller with one hand, her other hand poised over the other buttons. They select their characters and begin the virtual battle. Rory whomps Tristan thoroughly and then smiles happily.

"Quite a vicious game for someone so serene as you," Tristan says as they scan the arcade for other games to play.

"Oh, I'm full of repressed anger. Anyday now I'll crack like a postal employee."

"Well, at least I'm forewarned." Deciding that the small arcade had nothing else tremendously fun to offer, Tristan and Rory head out toward the mall. By the entrance there's a small instant photo booth and Rory stops. Tristan walks a few steps before realizing he's left her behind and quickly back tracks. "No," he shakes his head adamantly as he sees what Rory's looking at.

"Come on. I love these things. Lane and I always get one when we go shopping together."

"You must have a lot of them then," Tristan replies.

"Just a few. We don't go shopping together that often because of Lane's mom," Rory peeks under the curtain to make sure no one is already using the booth. Finding that it's empty, she pushes the curtain back and begins digging money out of her bag.

"I hate these things, Rory. They're so cheesy and-"

"Great!" She finishes for him and grabs his hand. "Just get in there." She tugs him toward the booth and then pushes him in first. He lands on the seat with a thud and Rory squeezes in next to him. The second she sits down next to him Rory immediately wonders what the hell she was thinking. She loves the little rip-off photo booths, yes, but what possessed her to bring Tristan into one?

Tristan tries not to think about how close Rory's body is to his own body, but they were squeezed into the booth so tightly it's hard not to. He could smell the heavenly scent of her hair; he reminds himself it's probably just her shampoo. That doesn't exactly work either. Rory squirms around for a moment and finally manages to get her money into the machine.

"Kay, here we go," Rory murmurs as the machine starts to make noise. Rory manuvers to try to get situated quickly so she's in the shot and ends up getting a bright flash right in her face. Shrieking slightly and then laughing, she almost falls back onto Tristan, causing him to burst into laughter as well. She ends up half on his knee, balancing precariously. They manage to pull off a few funny faces for the next two shots but Rory finally loses her balance as the last flash goes off and Tristan moves his arms to stop her from falling.

The machine comes to a stop and begins making whirring sounds as it prints out their strip of pictures, but neither Tristan or Rory move. Rory is locked in Tristan's gaze, his deep, sparkling blue eyes suddenly captivating her. Her mother was right, Tristan does have amazing eyes.

Tristan looks like he's about to say something, but instead he blinks and looks away, breaking the gaze. He slowly lets her go, making sure she was no longer in danger of slipping, and then pulls away from her so fast Rory swore she could feel a breeze sweep through.

Not sure what had just happened, Rory quickly exits the booth and goes to get their pictures from the dispenser. She feels like she's quivering all over, inside and out. What the hell was that? she asks herself, mentally berating herself for how idiotic she is. Tristan steps from behind the curtain and looks over her shoulder at their pictures.

"Well...they came out to be very...interesting..." he mumbles, mustering a smile. His voice startles Rory, who hadn't realized he was right behind her. "I especially like the first one." He points to the first frame, which is an extreme close-up of the side of Rory's face with Tristan in the back left corner, an expression of amusement on his face.

"You want to keep them?" Rory offers, her voice cracking.

"No. You paid for them, you keep them," he says. "And that's your rule."

"Ah, so you actually do listen to what I say."

"What?" Tristan jokes and Rory can't help but smack him in the arm. The tension is broken and they leave the arcade together, each of them desperately hoping to forget that that strange moment in the photo booth. As they walk back out into the mall, Rory glances at her watch.

"Oh my god!" She exclaims. "I'm supposed to be meeting Lane and Henry for dinner right now! I have to go!"

"Wait, wha-"

"She's gonna kill me. I gotta go," Rory quickly runs off in the direction of their designated meeting place. She's too frantic to really say good-bye to Tristan, leaving him in a stunned silence. He watches as she disappears around the corner, his heart sinking as she got further away from him with every step. The second she is gone, Tristan comes crashing back to reality. He'd never felt more confused about anything in his entire life.

* * *

"Rory!" Lane calls as she runs up to her best friend, so giddy with happiness that Rory immediately bursts into a huge smile. "You're still alive!"

"Sorry I'm late!" Rory apologizes. "Why wouldn't I be alive?"

"I don't know. You could've been mugged. Kidnapped. Things like that happen at malls all the time," Lane informs her. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to call mall security to look for you."

"You should've. It would've given them something to do. I doubt manning the information desk is all too thrilling for them."

"So now that you're here...dinner?"

"Wanna go to Johnny Rocket's?" Rory suggests. "I'm craving a cheeseburger."

"Don't you ever get sick of eating hamburgers?" Lane asks. "You order that at Luke's all the time."

"Nope. I'm a very simple person. Hamburgers are simple. They fit my personality quite well," Rory shrugs.

"I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd like to define my personality in terms of food."

"Well I do. I'm a hamburger gal."

"So, okay, Hamburglar, what did you do today after I deserted you like the wretched girl I am?" Lane starts walking in the direction of Johnny Rocket's.

"Quit feeling guilty," Rory demands. "There's no reason to feel bad. Did you have a good time with Henry?"

"Of course. And we saw Tomb Raider."

"Oh dear god, no. Why?"

"That will forever remain a mystery to both me and you."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. Though I do have a strong wish to be Angelina Jolie now. I would really love to just look like her. That would make life so much easier."

"I think you're managing very well on your own, Lane," Rory teases. "I think Henry is more of a Lane worshipper than an Angelina fan."

"You really think?"

"Oh yeah," Rory nods with a knowing grin. "Where is Henry, anyway? I thought he was going to eat dinner with us."

"He couldn't. He had to be home by six o'clock. Family does Sunday dinners together no matter what, no excuses."

"Speaking of which, how did you get out of dinner at home?"

"I called my mom a few minutes ago and told her we were stuck in a huge traffic jam and wouldn't be home for quite some time."

"She bought that?"

"I think so…" Lane shrugs, obviously not sure. "But I know for a fact that there ws definite congestion on our designated route home this particular evening, so if she checks it out she won't have reason to disbelieve my story."

"And how did you come by this information regarding the traffic?"

"A lady in front of us at this store we went to after the movie was talking about it. Apparently there was an accident and traffic was backed up for miles. She got off and decided to kill time shopping rather than sitting in her car."

"Wise decision. I'll keep my fingers crossed that your mom doesn't lock you away in your room for the next month as a result," Rory replies and Lane laughs lightly.

"I think I'll be okay. And even if she does, I really don't care. Today was the best day of my life."

"Even better than the day you discovered what Rice Krispy Treats were?"

"Oh, that was a good day," Lane grins. "But I think this edges it out."

"That good?"

"Yes, that good," Lane nods. "It was so nice to just hang around him and not have all this surrounding pressures from my family and his family and…urgghh. The thought of going back to that after this is making me sick."

"Those who have a taste of freedom don't want to go back to prison ever again," Rory remarks with a profound air, nodding and scrunching her brow like she's divining some important philosophical information.

"Thank you, Dr. Freud," Lane giggles. They step into the short line outside of Johnny Rocket's. "It's not too busy. Usually the line to get a table is a lot longer than this, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Rory says, a troubled look suddenly flashing across her face. Lane looks at her concerned.

"What's the matter?"

"What? Oh, nothing. I was just…thinking about something."

"Care to enlighten me as to what that certain something was? You looked upset."

"It's not…I mean, I just kind of realized that…because I was late coming to meet you I ditched the person I was with without so much as a good-bye. I sort of just ran away."

"You were with a person? What person?" Lane inquires, interested.

"It doesn't really matter," Rory mumbles, not really wanting to tell Lane about her day with Tristan. She'd get all excited and happy for Rory, thinking that she and Tristan were friends and Rory would just get even more confused and annoyed. Just because she spent one day with Tristan at the mall didn't mean they were friends. True, maybe she didn't hate him like she used to, but that didn't mean they were going to be best buddies now. The last thing she needed was people telling her that was the case. Nevertheless, she felt terrible about leaving him like that without any real explanation. He's probably feeling more confused than I am at this point,, Rory thinks, then realizes that Lane is still looking at her, waiting for her to say something else. "It was just someone from Chilton. We hung out for awhile. I lost track of time and when I realized that I was late, I basically just ran away in a panicked frenzy and left him standing there."

"Him?"

Damn it.

Rory is saved from an immediate explanation by the hostess approaching them and leading them to a table in the back of the restaurant.

"Your waitress will be with you shortly," the hostess tells them with a tired smile and walks back toward the front. The second she leaves Lane pounces on Rory as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted at all.

"Rory, you were with a guy? What guy? What about Dean?"

"Lane!" Rory exclaims. "It wasn't like that. Of course it wasn't like that. I would never do that to Dean."

"Yeah…I know that. Sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I just…"

"I know you didn't," Rory sighs and picks up the menu that's laying on the table in front of her. "We were just hanging out. I ran into him in the bookstore and we went and got coffee…and just hung out."

"Can I take a guess about this mystery man's identity or are you ever going to assign him a name on your own?" Lane remarks and Rory rolls her eyes. "It was Tristan, wasn't it?" The look on Rory's face tells Lane that she's right. "Oh my god. You spent the day with Tristan? U2 Tickets Tristan?"

"When did he start being U2 Ticket Tristan instead of Evil Tristan?"

"When he did the amazing thing of buying you tickets to the best concert of the summer. What did you guys do all day? Did you have fun? Tell me _everything_."

"Don't get all crazy about it Lane, please. It's not a big deal. I don't think it meant anything at all. We're not magically just friends now and I don't want everyone to think that."

"Okay, I don't think that." Lane pauses. "So why don't you think you're friends?"

"One day of managing to not kill one another and actually getting along does not translate into friendship."

"So, maybe it's not time to start braiding each other's hair and painting your toenails, but It could be the start of friendship," Lane points out. "You have to begin somewhere, right?"

"I don't know if I want to begin anywhere," Rory lets out a long breath and frowns. "Being friends with Tristan just seems like such a strange concept. After all that he's done to me and all the friction he's caused…I mean, if I become friends with him, Paris is going to make my life a living hell. She'll make life at Chilton next year terrible for me."

"It's impossible to make Paris happy, Rory. No matter what you do, it's always going to be walking on eggshells with her. I don't think she's a good reason not to be friends with someone."

"I'm not ruling out the possibility of being Tristan's friend, okay? But I don't want to get ahead of myself here. I don't even know if we can continue being civil to one another. Tristan changes his attitude toward me so frequently; a few days from now he could easily be back to calling me Mary and stealing my books."

"You're out of school. A few days from now, you won't even be carrying your books-"

"I was just using it as an example of how fast things could change," Rory stops Lane from continuing. "I'll just think about Tristan in September. I doubt I'll see him more than once or twice again this summer, and quite possibly not even once. I want this summer to be simple and fun. No Chilton. I want it to be hanging with you, talking with my mom, and being with Dean. I want to have fun. I want simple."

"I got that. Fun. Simple."

"Exactly."

"And Tristan is neither?"

"No. He's complicated. Very, very complicated."

"What about fun?"

"He's still too complicated for me to make an informed decision as to the degree of fun he holds."

"So for now he's just...complicated."

"Maybe he's really simple and you're just making him complicated by over thinking things."

"Lane, it's like Sookie's cooking compared to Luke's. I mean, Sookie goes all out. She creates these masterful creations that look wonderful and taste even better. To her, food is an art form, something to be prepared with reverence. Now Luke...he puts a hamburger on the grill, plops it onto a roll and voila, you have dinner. It's that straightforward. And it is still the best-tasting hamburger around."

"You think that Luke is a better cook than Sookie?"

"No, not at all. I'm saying that Sookie...her food is a treat. An occasion. You can't eat her food every night. Her food takes a lot of hard work, painstaking preparation and tremendous dedication. But you can eat at Luke's all the time. You don't have to make a big deal out of it. You don't have to sit there and figure out the English translation of the dish you just ordered and then realize you're about to eat snails. A chicken sandwich is just a chicken sandwich, you know?"

"So Tristan is escargot and Dean is a chicken sandwich, and you can deal with the chicken sandwich but escargot is just too much to handle all the time."

"This is quickly turning into a bad variation on the creme brulé vs. Jell-o conversation between Cameron Diaz and Julia Roberts in My Best Friend's Wedding, I hope you realize that."

"And you do realize what you are inadvertently saying, don't you?"

"Besides the fact that Tristan and I aren't friends? No."

"You're saying that Tristan could be this truly amazing person if you made the effort to discover what he's about, a Gourmet Guy. But you're content in your bubble of simplicity. You've got your Diner Dude and that's that."

"Lane, you're making it out like my issues with Tristan are romantic and using too much alliteration while you're at it. This is not about anything remotely romantic. Dean doesn't even figure into my relationship with Tristan, if I even have one. This is entirely about Tristan and I becoming friends."

"I know, I know..." Lane sighs, leaning back against the back of the booth. "I just...Tristan seems like such a challenge. An exciting one. And it's not like you to back down from a challenge." She picks up her fork and taps it against the table lightly, frowning slightly and looking away from Rory.

"I'm not backing down," Rory says, sounding a little hurt. "I'm just putting it off for awhile. Who says that I have to deal with this right now, at this moment? There's nothing wrong with waiting until school starts again to figure this out. I have time."

Before Lane can reply, their waitress finally appears at the side of their table, note pad and pen in hand and a fake smile plastered on her face.

"What can I get for you two ladies today?" She asks, looking between Lane and Rory expectantly.

"She'll have the chicken sandwich," Lane tells the waitress with a smile. Rory groans and puts her head down on the table with a heavy thunk. The waitress gives her a strange look and asks Lane if her friend is okay. "She's fine. I'll have a tuna melt, and I think we'll both have vanilla milkshakes."

"Okay, that'll be right out." The waitress finishes writing down their order, and after giving one more look in Rory's direction, walks toward the kitchen. Rory sits up and glares at Lane.

"What? I thought you _liked_ chicken," Lane remarks with wide-eyed innocence and a faint smirk.

"I'm looking for a new best friend tomorrow," Rory says and Lane just laughs.

"You know you love me."

"Seriously doubting that at this particular moment."

"Doubt away. You'll inevitably come to the conclusion that you simply can't live without me."

"No, I can't live without coffee," Rory corrects her. "Best friends who continue to talk about Tristan DuGrey when it is undesired, I can do without."

"Okay. Want to hear more about my quasi-date with Henry?" Lane asks, giggling. They're soon involved in a minute-by-minute replay of Lane's day, Tristan momentarily forgotten. But Rory knew that she still had a ways to go, since her mother is waiting for her at home and would surely have an opinion about the events of the day. Shaking the prospect from her thoughts, Rory devotes herself to listening intently to Lane's ecstatic recounting of everything that Henry had said and did. Tristan was a problem for another day, another time.

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. They mean a lot. 


	4. Pretend

_Chapter Four: Pretend _

"Luke..." Lorelai's sing-song voice echoes across the diner as she approaches the counter. "Lukey, Lukey, Lukey..."

He glares at her, obviously ready for their daily bickering. She smiles at him as she sits down.

"Please tell me you didn't just call me Lukey."

"I could tell you that, but that would make a liar out of me," Lorelai replies. "And we wouldn't want that."

"Oh no. Because the last thing the world needs is a flighty, annoying coffee addict who lies."

"You think I'm flighty?"

"More flighty than most."

"But not flaky, right?"

"No, Sookie is flaky. You're flighty. Can I stop talking like this now?"

"Only if you give me some coffee."

"Or I could just walk away and leave you here. I think that's the better option."

"Oh, come on, Luke. I need my coffee today. Badly. Max is coming here to meet me for lunch."

"He's coming here?" Luke's voice immediately tightens, and the agitation in his tone startles Lorelai for a moment.

"Yes, he's coming to Stars Hollow," Lorelai replies, giving him a strange look. "Sookie is making us lunch. Is that illegal or something? You're getting all jumpy on me."

"I am not jumpy."

"Suit yourself."

"Where's Rory today?" Luke asks, deliberately changing the subject.

"She's at the country club with her grandparents," Lorelai makes a hideous face. "Probably playing golf or god knows what by now."

"Oh dear god no." Luke says flatly and Lorelai rolls her eyes at him.

"She's going to come home saying things like 'Marion George was wearing the most hideous blazer this afternoon. It looked like a cheap imitation Liz. How dare she show her face in public' and you expect me to remain calm?"

"Marion George?"

"I made her up."

"You have quite the imagination."

"Yes I do. Be quiet. My point is that Rory could be coming home talking like she's one of those trust fund kids you see in movies. Like the jerks in Revenge of the Nerds."

"You know Rory would never act like that," Luke says.

"I know," Lorelai admits. "And my mother was kind enough to grant two of their guest passes to Dean and Lane, so Rory will have people to anchor her in reality."

"Well, that's good. We wouldn't want her floating away into fantasy land, now would we?"

"No, we wouldn't," Lorelai replies, then pauses for a moment before collapsing against the counter. "I just wish she hadn't gone today. I need her today!"

"Why?"

"Max, obviously."

"Not obvious enough for us sane people to understand. Why would Rory have to be here for-"

"For moral support!" Lorelai exclaims. "Today is the day, Mr. Danes. I told Max I would give him an answer to that whole marriage proposal thing."

"You make it sound so romantic."

"Since when have you been a fan of romance?"

"I'm not," Luke states. "You're the one with the flowers and the fairy tales and all that gushy stuff. Shouldn't you be excited about all this?"

"It's been a month since he asked me," Lorelai informs him, looking displeased. "The whole romantic aspect of this situation has been drained of its existence. The daises are dead and long gone and all that's left is little Lorelai Gilmore, sitting here still pondering whether to answer using two letters or three."

"Can I offer you some advice?"

"Advice from Luke. This ought to be good," Lorelai leans over the counter toward him as if eager to hear what he has to say.

"If you've been putting off giving the guy an answer for a month, I think it's pretty obvious what the answer should be."

"Not obvious enough for us insane people to understand," Lorelai smirks.

"If you wanted to marry him, you would've said yes by now. There's gotta be a reason why you keep putting the discussion off."

"Yes, there is a reason. It's name is Rory. This is a huge, huge deal for the both of us. It has to be handled delicately. I'm not about to leap into anything."

"Rory's a big girl. She can handle whatever decision you make. If you ever make one."

"Are you trying to taunt me into making a decision?" Lorelai inquires, raising an eyebrow. Luke just shrugs innocently and tosses his towel over his shoulder, leaning against the back counter.

"I don't care one way or the other, Lorelai," he lies. "You can marry Max, if that's what you want. I just don't think that it's the right decision for you."

"Is there any coffee to go along with this stellar advice or am I going to have to go elsewhere?" Lorelai gestures to the empty counter in front of her. Luke grunts and reluctantly gets a mug, setting it down with a thud in front of her. He grabs the coffee pot and fills it up, shaking his head. "Thank you."

"No problem." They are both silent for a moment. Lorelai watches him carefully, trying to tell what he's thinking. When she is unable to decode the look on his face, she lets out a frustrated groan.

"Aren't you even going to tell me why you think Max is a bad thing for me?"

"I was getting the impression that my opinion was unwanted," Luke replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's never stopped you before."

"It's stopping me now."

"No, no it's not. You're just not telling me because you know it'll annoy me. You're doing this to annoy me."

"Funny how the tables turn," Luke smirks.

"I'm going to work now. You're evil."

"I also gave you decaf."

"Most evil man on earth. The devil is in awe of you and your evilness, that's how evil you are. I'm not your friend anymore," Lorelai turns and tells him before walking out of the diner. Luke watches her disappear around the corner in a huff, laughing gently to himself. His smile fades quickly when he thinks of Lorelai and her upcoming lunch with Max. He had pretended to not really care all that much, but inside he was begging Lorelai to listen to him and say no. She couldn't marry Max; but what was stopping her? He couldn't tell her how he really felt, that was impossible. A customer calls out for Luke and shakes him from his reverie. Worrying about Lorelai would have to wait until later.

* * *

"Rory, this place is amazing. I can't imagine getting to come here on a regular basis," Lane says, half-whispering, as they walk slowly through the grounds on the country club. "How much does it cost for a membership here?"

"A lot of money and the extra price of maintaining an excellent reputation according to their standards," Rory replies. "It also helps to have a permanently turned up nose and a condescending attitude. That's why my mom hates it so much here."

"She seemed really cool about you coming though," Dean says, twining his fingers in hers as they stopped next to the lake and watched a few paddleboats slowly move through the water.

"Inwardly freaking out," Rory explains. "She's been trying to not to get so flipped out when I do things with my grandparents. It was her New Year's resolution."

"That's a good resolution. Mine was to stop sneaking so much junk food past my mother into my room," Lane laughs, then looks guilty. "That lasted for about two days. I went to your house and gorged on all the candy you still had left from Christmas and that was over. Went to Doose's Market the next day and stocked up."

"There's no way to resist candy if you're at the Gilmore house," Dean states, chuckling. He smiles at Rory. "Lorelai has got candy for every occasion."

"And then some," Lane adds.

"That she does," Rory agrees. "And I have back-up just in case she runs out." She glances around, wiping the sweat from her brow. It is about noon, and the sun is right over head, beating down. "God, it's has to be about 100 degrees out here."

"I was thinking more like 110."

"You guys want to go sit in the shade?" Dean asks, gesturing to a large willow tree that is by the edge of the lake. "Rory, you like weeping willows, right?" He teases, thinking back to the first night he was at the Gilmores and Lorelai had told him about how Rory had once tried to cheer up a weeping willow when she was little. Rory rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, embarrassed.

"Someday I'm going to make my mom pay for telling that story," she mutters. They wander under the shade of the tree and stand there silently for a moment. It's only a few seconds before Rory lets out a groan. "Okay, so it's only like 95 in the shade. This isn't helping. I really wish there was a breeze today."

"Yeah, the air is just like, hanging around me, sticking to me. It's quite oppressive."

"The heat is oppressive?" Dean looks at Lane, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a fan of personification, Nark. Don't mock me."

"You're calling him Nark now too?" Rory exclaims. "What has my mother done to you people?" Lane just smiles.

"Well, she's right, it is catchy. It fits Dean perfectly. But I only call him that when he's being annoying."

"I'm never annoying," Dean intercuts, laughing.

"Yes, and Eminem is a pillar of political correctness," Lane retorts.

"Who is up for hitting the pool?" Rory suggests, looking back toward the main buildings of the club as she lifts her long hair off of her neck. "I'm about to die out here."

"We certainly don't want that. Are you feeling faint from the heat? Cause I can do the whole knight in shining armor thing and carry you back," Dean offers gallantly, but jokingly.

"No, save the chilvalry. I'm sure you'll need it for the time we get stuck in a blizzard and I hurt myself and you have to carry me to safety through 60 mph winds, blinding snow and freezing temperatures, sacrificing all of your toes to horrible frostbite just to keep me alive."

"I'll have my snow shoes ready."

"Can we put a stop to the witty banter here and go swimming? My feet are melting into my flip-flops here," Lane interrupts. "I have no need for a plastic mold of my feet."

"Okay, let's go," Rory leads the group back toward the swimming area, hoping that the large pool wouldn't be too full of loud, spoiled children and elder members of the club who did laps at the pace of handicapped turtles.

* * *

Rory ties her towel tightly around her waist and glances at Lane, who is slipping her glasses back on.

"You're not going to swim with those on, are you?" Rory asks, confused.

"Quite possibly," Lane shrugs. "I'm going to keep them on as long as possible. Or else I'm sure to go walking straight off the edge and fall face first into the pool. And while I'm sure I won't be seeing these people ever again, I'd rather not have my trip to your grandparents' country club to be marred by an embarrassing experience."

Rory slips her belongings into a locker and closes it tightly, double checking to make sure it's locked.

"You do realize that if you took your glasses off, I would be more than happy to guide you to the pool and save you from walking into a pole or something. I know I've had my moments of being a bad friend, but letting you play Velma is something I've never done."

"I know you wouldn't, but I think I'll keep them on anyway. I like being able to see. It helps," Lane replies. "Besides, when I was over in the changing rooms, a heard a whole bunch of girls gossiping about this really hot lifeguard. Apparently he's gorgeous, a blonde Adonis of some kind."

"How old were these girls? I've never seen anyone my own age here, the few times I've come. They have to be like eleven."

"I think they were more like thirteen, but that's beside the point. They said he's hot."

"But can you trust their opinion?"

"That's why the glasses are staying on. I have to see for myself," Lane looks toward the exit, nodding. "You ready to go take a peek?"

"I'm ready to go swimming, but somehow I don't think Dean would be too happy with me checking out the lifeguards."

"I don't think Henry would be thrilled, but there's no harm in looking, Rory. It's perfectly natural." Lane grabs Rory's hand and pulls her in the direction of the pool. Rory hastily grabs her bag from the bench, almost falling over as Lane hurries along.

"Hey, you know, I really like my arm and I would like to keep it," Rory tells her best friend as they come to a stop just outside the door, the bright sunlight and steaming heat hitting them like a brick wall.

"I wish I had remembered my sun glasses," Lane mumbles, letting her eyes adjust for a moment before stepping out and looking around. Rory scans the area for Dean, but he's nowhere to be found. The pool is actually not that full, a couple of middle-aged women sunning themselves on the patio. Lane puts her hand to her forehead to block the sunlight as she immediately begins looking for the supposedly hot guard. Spotting the supposedly cute lifeguard across the pool, Lane shrieks and hits Rory on the arm. "There he is! And man, they were not lying. What a total hottie!" Lane points and Rory looks over.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rory groans.

"You can't possibly stand there and not appreciate that fine male specimen, Rory. Maybe you're the one who needs glasses," Lane scoffs. "Those girls were not wrong."

"Lane." Rory stops her in her admiration. There is no humor or amusement in her voice, her face a perfect picture of seriousness. "That 'fine male specimen' over there is Tristan. Tristan DuGrey." Lane gasps and looks back over at the lifeguard, then back at Rory, then repeats the process all over again.

"No way. That's Tristan? Your Tristan?"

"He's not my Tristan."

"What other Tristan is there?"

"No...I mean...he's the Tristan I know and talk about but he's not my Tristan. You called him 'your Tristan' and he's not my Tristan," Rory babbles, trying to clarify. Lane eyes her. "But yes, that's Tristan."

"Rory, you never told me he was a god."

"Probably because I don't think he is one," Rory remarks flatly.

"You can't possibly take a step back and appraise him objectively? I mean, if you were just meeting him, wouldn't you think that he was beautiful?"

"No."

"Perhaps you should look at him again," Lane suggests.

"Lane, it's not like this is the first time you've ever seen him. He was at the party we went to at Madeleine's!"

"Like I was looking at anything but Henry that night! And if I wasn't looking at Henry, I was flipping out about Henry. Tristan could've been standing right next to me and I wouldn't have noticed. But now...I'm calm and I'm noticing."

"Well, have fun noticing. I'm going to go find Dean," Rory says, turning to walk away.

"Rory..." Lane whines, stopping her. "You don't have to appreciate his utter gorgeousness, but shouldn't you at least go over and say hello? I thought you guys were getting along better."

"I haven't seen or spoken to him in over a month. Just because we had a good day at the mall, doesn't mean-"

"You shouldn't ignore him now. He's going to see you here and he's going to know that you've seen him, and if you don't at least say hi, well..."

"Well, what?" Rory asks.

"I just think you should go over there. And that I should come with you and get a close-up look at him." Lane looks at Rory pleadingly, tugging on her hand. Rory tilts her head and closes her eyes for a moment, as if trying to will herself not to give in. She opens her eyes and sighs.

"Okay, fine..." she mutters. Lane grins and jumps up and down once, clapping her hands.

"Excellent!"

Lane and Rory make their way around the perimeter of the pool slowly. Rory adjusts the towel around her waist nervously, wishing that she hadn't chosen today to debut her new bikini. She felt uncomfortable enough in it already, and facing Tristan DuGrey would only make things worse. He could pick up on her insecurities faster than anyone she'd ever met in her life.

"You know, it really scares me that they're trusting you to be in charge of saving people's lives," Rory calls up to him as they stop next to his chair.

"You couldn't just say hello like a normal person?" Lane whispers as Tristan looks down quickly in surprise, shocked to be hearing her familiar and lovely voice.

"Rory?" He is momentarily puzzled, but tries to cover it. He hadn't expected to see her at the club, knowing how her mother was about such things. He thought he was safe from her here. After she had sent him back the tickets, he had sincerely hoped that he wouldn't have to face her again until school. "Hey." The greeting comes out kind of meekly, his voice cracking. Realizing he sounds like an idiot, Tristan summons up all the swagger he can manage. "What are you doing here?"

"Swimming," she replies matter-of-factly. "Or about to, anyway. What are you doing, trying to hit on the female lifeguards?" He climbs down from his chair assuredly, jumping down lightly from the third rung of the ladder.

"No, I am a lifeguard," Tristan replies, turning to Lane with a smile. She practically melts, her eyes glazing over slightly. "And you must be Lane, right? Rory talks about you all the time." Lane doesn't say anything. "How are you?" Tristan asks after a moment, wondering what is the matter with Rory's friend as she continues to stare at him.

"Oh, I'm good," Lane finally replies, smiling. "Glad I wore my glasses today."

"They're nice glasses," Tristan replies, not sure what else to say. Tristan turns to Rory, who is again playing with the edge of her towel. She's pulling at a frayed corner, turning it into a kind of fringe. "So, you here with your grandparents?"

"Yeah..." Rory replies softly, obviously still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Tristan is standing next to her. "So...not to sound rude or anything but...you're...working here?"

"That I am," Tristan laughs lightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"I think she means why are you working when you so obviously don't have to," Lane interjects, then covers her mouth. "Wow, that came out very Roseanne Barr demanding bitch like."

"That's okay. I like bluntness. I hate it when people dance around what they want to say," Tristan tells Lane. He has to bite back a sardonic laugh, thinking of the intense irony of the statement he had just made. Right, Tristan...you're one to talk. You're the one who doesn't say what you're thinking. He glances at Rory, wondering what she is thinking. "And as for why I'm working here," Tristan finally continues after a moment's pause, "I'm working here because they were short on lifeguards this summer and needed the help. I'm trained, so I offered. Anything to get me away from my parents as much as possible."

"But don't your parents don't come to the country club?" Rory asks, her face twisting in puzzlement. "I thought they were members, my grandparents once mentioned-"

"Oh, they are, but they're too busy to come anytime except the weekends. So, I work from 11-8 every single weekday so I can avoid interaction with them at home, and also so I don't have to work the weekends when they're here. It works rather well."

"Seems like a good system," Rory agrees, nodding. An awkward silence settles and Rory shifts her gaze to the ground, shuffling her feet. Lane watches Tristan watch Rory, immediately agreeing with Lorelai's secret theory that Tristan liked Rory. They had discussed it together one night when Lane had dropped by only to find out that Rory was out with Dean. Rory had just mailed the U2 tickets back to Tristan and Lorelai was quite huffy about it. Observing Tristan first hand, it is clear that Lorelai is right.

"Hey...so, did you ever listen to that CD I picked out?" Tristan inquires, trying to get the conversation going again. Rory smiles at him, almost gratefully. She had clearly been racking her brain for something to say.

"Yeah, I did, actually. I love it. I listen to it all the time," Rory answers him truthfully. "I love 'Ahead by a Century' and '700 ft. Ceiling.' Do you like the Jude CD?"

"It's awesome. He is a really amazing songwriter," Tristan says and Rory grins.

"I knew you'd like it. Any songs that really caught you?"

"'Brad & Suzy,'" Tristan informs her, shrugging and smiling as if embarrassed. "The part at the beginning about them being cardboard cutout superheroes-"

"And paragons on bar stools?" Rory finishes with an even bigger smile.

"Yeah, I love that."

"I am really surprised."

"But I thought you knew I'd like it," Tristan smirks.

"I knew you'd like it if you gave it a chance, but I didn't think you would. I figured you'd toss it in a desk drawer somewhere with your other junk."

"Well, for once you were wrong," he replies. "I better mark it down on the calendar."

"I've been a Jude fan and a Tragically Hip fan for longer than both of you," Lane interrupts teasingly, and from the looks on their faces she can tell they had forgotten she was even standing there. "So I guess I have both of you beat. I am a music goddess."

"Among many other things," Rory replies.

"I can tell from the tone of your voice that you meant that as an insult but I'm choosing to read it as a compliment," Lane retorts. "I defy you."

"Consider me defied."

The three of them exchange looks as they all try to think of a way to continue the conversation. No one says anything for a moment and Tristan seems like he's about to go crazy. He glances away from Rory and Lane, his hand absently running through his hair.

"I guess I better get back up there and do my job," Tristan mumbles, squinting as he looks up at the sun. He turns back to the pair with a shrug. "They're not paying me to stand around and talk, after all."

"Wow, Tristan has work ethic," Rory says, amazed. "I never would've thought."

"Yeah," Tristan just sighs, leaving Rory a bit puzzled. He always had a witty comeback for everything she said. It wasn't like him to just let her tease or insult him without a fight. "My main boss is here today, so I shouldn't slack off. Thought I don't know why he's here, it's not like we're even busy."

"Yeah, what is that about? There's a definite lack of swimming patrons here today."

"Well, it's a holiday week. A lot of families go away for the Fourth of July."

"Really?" Lane asks. "Where do they go? I mean-I never thought it was a big travel holiday."

"They go to the Vineyard, to Boston, to New York City-there's all kinds of ritzy parties and useless celebrations everywhere," Tristan explains. "My parents are going to London, actually."

"What a way to be patriotic, leaving the country on the Fourth of July to visit the very nation we are celebrating our independence from," Rory smiles, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, my dad has some business to take care of. He doesn't stop for holidays," he says, frowning. "Besides, my older brother is at Oxford so they're going to visit him."

"If they're going away, what are you doing for the Fourth of July?" Rory inquires, almost feeling bad for him. "You're going to be all by yourself?"

"Yeah, but it's not like it's Christmas or anything. Not a big deal. I'll probably end up throwing a party or something. Since I have the house to myself, it'd be kind of a sacrilege not to." Noticing the concerned look on Rory's face, Tristan tries to reassure her he's not bothered by it. "I wouldn't have spent the time with my parents anyway, I'm not exactly going to be scarred for life.

"Oh. My mom and I always hang out on the Fourth of July...I can't imagine doing something without her. This year we're going to play it simple, probably pack a picnic, go to the beach, go see the fireworks, then go home and watch a silly movie. Lane always comes with no matter what we do, and this year Dean and Max – I mean, Mr. Medina - are probably going to come too."

"Sounds like a lot of fun," Tristan says, a little jealous of both Rory's relationship with her mother and over the mention of Dean spending the holiday with Rory.

"You should come and hang with us!" Lane exclaims spontaneously, grinning. Rory's eyes just about fall out of her head and she gasps out loud. Tristan pretends not to notice but her reaction to Lane's suggestion felt like a knife through his heart. Faking a smile, Tristan shakes his head.

"Thanks for the invite, but I think I'll pass this time around," he tells Lane graciously. Rory breathes a sigh of relief, then quickly tries to recover.

"That's too bad," Rory smiles lightly. "But I'm sure whatever you end up doing, you'll have fun."

"Yeah, sure," Tristan replies, averting his eyes from her. He focuses on Lane, not wanting Rory to see the hurt he was sure his eyes held. Why does Rory have so much power over him? He hated it sometimes. "Well, it was very nice to meet you, Lane." He takes her hand and kisses it, laying a charming smile on her as he pulls away. "I'll see you around, Mary." He climbs back up the ladder and retakes his seat, not even looking at Rory as he says good-bye.

"Bye," Rory mumbles. Although she didn't want to admit it, she felt slightly hurt by his sudden distance in those last few seconds of their conversation. He varied so much in his behavior toward her; one second he was open and the next a brick wall had been erected between them. She hadn't meant to act so rude about Lane's invitation for him to join them in the Independence Day celebration, but the thought of him and Dean being together for an entire day, along with the added pressure of her mom being present, was just too wild a concept to even consider. It was bad enough even having Tristan be in the same general area as Dean right now. Having them hang out together was insane.

Rory looks up at him for a few moments, but he's clearly focusing on other things. Lane giggles as they turn away and walk back toward the changing rooms. She doesn't notice the strange look on Rory's face.

"Rory, he could be a Baywatch Babe. With the red trunks and the whistle hanging down against his perfectly sculpted and deeply tanned chest?" Lane groans, tossing a last look at him over her shoulder. "Wow."

"Lane, you're talking about Tristan as if he's the sixth Backstreet Boy and it is really freaking me out," Rory remarks. "Next thing I know you're going to paint I Love Tristan on a big cardboard sign and stand next to his lifeguard chair shrieking and fainting."

"Do you think they'd throw me out for that?" Lane jokes. For a second Rory thinks that Lane is serious, which sends Lane into hysterics. "I was kidding, Rory. I'm just saying Tristan is a total hottie. He may not be the best person in the world, but as eye candy, he suits his purpose. You've got to admit that."

"I don't have to admit anything."

"But you're not denying it."

"I plead the fifth on all issues concerning Tristan DuGrey from this moment forth."

"Ah ha! So perhaps you wouldn't mind him practicing a little mouth to mouth on you," Lane teases her, giggling. Rory rolls her eyes and tugs on her hair, wishing that Lane had never run into Tristan. So what if Tristan is remotely good looking? It doesn't change who he is, and the last thing she needed was Lane joining her mother's choir of Tristan worship, endlessly singing chorus after chorus of praise for his soul-shocking blue eyes and his concert ticket buying ability.

"I think we should stop talking about Tristan all together. This past month of not talking about Tristan has been a good month. A great month, in fact. We should continue the trend."

"What trend?" Dean's voice causes Rory to jump a mile. He gets up from his place on the bench by the side of the pool and walks over to them. "You guys took forever to come out. Did you get lost in there?"

"No, we came out awhile ago. We beat you out here, in fact. How's that for sex stereotypes reversed," Lane replies.

"We took a walk around the pool while we were waiting," Rory explains.

"See anything good?"

"Nope, no interesting people have come swimming today. Though there was one lady swimming laps with Scooby Doo painted on her bathing cap. That was amusing."

"Sounds very interesting," Dean nods, trying to bite back a smile. He pats his dry swim trunks. "Who's ready to get wet?"

"Oh, that'd be me," Lane heads for the water immediately, not waiting for the two of them to come along. Dean and Rory exchange looks.

"So, are you one of those types who gets used to the water very slowly by wading in or are you a dive bomb into the deep end kind of girl?"

"I prefer to call it making a splashy entrance," Rory corrects him with a haughty air, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean laughs.

"Ah, forgive me. Well, let's make our splashy entrance, then." Dean takes her hand and they walk down to the deep end of the pool. "Diving board or off the side?"

"Oh, definitely off the side. Diving board gets too much water up your nose," Rory explains.

"Spoken like a true experience swimmer."

"These things are important. Nothing worse than the feeling of getting water up your nose."

"Nothing?"

"Well, perhaps there is something worse, but right now I just can't be bothered to think of it," Rory shrugs. "Ready? On the count of three. 1...2...3!" They jump in together, creating a big enough splash to attract a lot of attention. Tristan watches as the pair surfaces, laughing hysterically together. Rory tries to get her hair out of her face, giggling and exclaiming how she should have remembered to tie it back before swimming. The sight of the two of them together makes Tristan feel like he's about to be physically ill.

"Man, this water is freezing," Dean sputters as Rory splashes him playfully.

"That's a good thing. Have you already forgotten how warm it is out of the pool? If you have, I think you have short term memory problems." Rory's voice bounces slightly as she treads water. She glances down toward the shallow end, where Lane is slowly getting used to the water while trying to avoid the energetic children around her. One of them splashes her and she jumps, shrieking. She's almost entirely soaked. Giving up, she takes off her glasses and dunks under the water. After surfacing, she puts her glasses back on and swims over toward Dean and Rory.

"I know now why I can never stand babysitting," she mutters as she stops next to them. "Children are obnoxious."

"Aw, come on. It's better that you just get used to the water in one fell swoop," Dean says.

"Having one huge shock to your system is a good thing? I don't think so. That's how people have heart attacks."

"People get heart attacks from jumping into the water?" Rory questions, clearly just egging Lane on.

"No, they get them from sudden shocks," Lane huffs, annoyed. Dean and Rory laugh. "You can chuckle about it now, but when I suddenly go into cardiac arrest, I don't think you'll be laughing then."

A sharp whistle rings out and the three of them turn their heads. Tristan is giving quite a stern warning to some young boys and girls who were trying to chicken fight. Rory laughs to herself, the sight of Tristan DuGrey, the self-proclaimed king of reckless abandon, laying down the law and enforcing the rules. Dean doesn't recognize Tristan at first, but when he notices Rory's gaze hanging on him, he glances back.

"What is he doing here?" He asks, clearly concerned. Rory turns to him, trying not to act like it ever occurred to her that Dean would be annoyed by Tristan's presence. She swims to the side and hangs onto the gutter, tired of treading. Lane excuses herself from the situation, muttering something about the bathroom.

"What's who doing here?" She replies with another question.

"Tristan." Dean obviously knows that she had seen him and that she's playing dumb, and he doesn't seem happy about it.

"He's working as a life guard," Rory shrugs. "I think that's pretty self-explanatory considering he's in the chair."

"Did you know he was going to be here?"

"No, I didn't," Rory retorts, her tone getting slightly edgy. "But what does it matter? We're here, he's here, but it's not like we have to hang out with him. You don't even have to acknowledge his presence." Dean rests his arm on the gutter next to Rory, looking her in the eyes. He's still unhappy. "Look, Dean...I go to school with Tristan. I'm going to be seeing him every single day. I'm going to be in his classes. You can't keep getting all jealous or suspicious whenever we're in a five mile radius of one another. It's insane, not only because there's nothing going on there and there never will be anything going on there, but because I've never given you cause to think that anything ever was there. You're getting all worked up over some silly spat the two of you had at the dance."

"I know that, I just..." Dean starts sheepishly. "I know I have no reason to be concerned, Rory...I guess I'm just insecure. He can offer you all these things that I can't-"

"But I don't want them! I don't need someone to buy me things and take me to rich parties. I don't need stupid tickets to concerts. That's not what relationships are about," Rory says, but Dean doesn't look too convinced. "I mailed him back the tickets to the U2 concert, didn't I? I don't want Tristan. I want you."

"What about U2 tickets?" He asks and Rory bites her lip. Oops. She had never told him about all of that.

"Oh...Tristan just gave me a pair of U2 tickets to apologize for the whole PJ Harvey thing...you know...since PJ was opening for them and all. There were supposed to be for you and me...but...I just couldn't use them. It was a nice thought and everything but I had to mail them back to him. He meant it as an apology, really. He wasn't trying to..." Rory drifts off. "He was just trying to be nice. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want it to turn into this whole big thing that we would argue about when it really wasn't an issue and it didn't mean anything to me at all."

"He gave you tickets to see U2..."

"Yeah. But I gave them back. And I mailed them to him, I didn't even see him."

"And he said they were for me and you? He didn't say you had to go with him?"

"No..." Rory furrows her brow, not sure where he's going with this. "You didn't want me to actually go to the concert, did you?"

"It would've been cool to see U2. Especially if we didn't have to pay," Dean chuckles.

"But you hate Tristan."

"Yeah, I do. And he probably gave you the tickets counting on the fact that I wouldn't go, and then you'd ask him to go. If I actually went, that'd really mess up his plans. I get to see a concert and piss him off all at the same time," Dean grins. He looks at Rory, who is astonished.

"You don't think it's wrong for him to try to buy my forgiveness? My friendship? You don't see anything wrong with that." Rory is upset by Dean's attitude.

"Rory, I was just kidding around. You're right...if you had suggested that we use the tickets in seriousness, I probably would've had the same reaction you did. Probably worse. I would've been really angry."

"But now...you're not."

"No, do you want me to be?"

"Of course not. I was just expecting Jealous Dean, not Joking Dean. Certainly not Relaxed and Easygoing Dean. I don't like Jealous Dean, but I was getting all prepared to deal with Jealous Dean, you see."

"Well, sorry. I picked up on that intense dislike you felt for Jealous Dean a few minutes ago and decided that he had seen enough action for the day. Though since now I'm talking about myself in third person, you might have to deal with Schizophrenic Dean."

"Better than Jealous Dean," Rory laughs. "And more useful. I can use you as a project for psychology class next year."

"You really have to take psychology?"

"Unfortunately," Rory mumbles. Dean smiles and leans in and kisses her gently.

"Sorry."

"I don't mind taking psychology if you keep kissing me out of pity," Rory smiles.

"I'll have to kiss you a lot then."

"Indeed." They kiss again, this time for a little longer. Across the pool, Tristan hurriedly climbs down the ladder, never more happy to be relieved of duty for his lunch break. If he had to sit up there and watch Rory and Dean together for a minute longer, he probably would've lost his mind.

"Is it safe for me to come back?" Lane is standing above them on the pool deck. Rory and Dean look up at her with smiles. She grins and heads for the ladder, climbing back into the pool. "I take it the obligatory little quarrel over Baywatch Boy is over?"

"Baywatch Boy?"

"Lane's nickname, not mine."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, Dean, Rory thinks you're way hotter than him," Lane tells Dean. "She won't even so much as look at Tristan."

"I think we've had enough discussion about Tristan today," Rory chimes once again. "As a matter of fact, I think we talk about Tristan too much entirely, considering that he and I are barely friends. How about we talk about something more important, like global warming?"

"And what are your thoughts on global warming?"

"I didn't mean let's literally talk about global warming, I just meant let's change the topic," Rory sighs.

"So you don't have a view on global warming," Dean says.

"Of course I do. The same view everyone has. It's bad. It's pretty hard to think that the polar ice caps melting and flooding the world is a good thing. But I don't particularly feel like discussing it or possible solutions any place besides the educational forum at this juncture in my life."

"Sometimes you scare me," Lane states, shaking her head at Rory.

"Thank you. Anyone feel like getting something to eat? I'm having a craving for potato chips," Rory heads for the ladder, not waiting for an answer.

"We're gonna stay in the nice cold water like sane people," Dean says as Rory climbs onto the deck, dripping water everywhere. She shrugs, not really caring.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Rory calls as she grabs her towel from a patio chair and haphazardly dries herself off before tying it around her waist. Slipping on her flip flops and grabbing her small bag, she heads inside toward the snack bar.

Once she's out of Lane and Dean's sight, Rory lets out a long sigh and lets her shoulders slump. This day was not what she had expected it to be. So far, she only felt overheated, overtired, and irritated. Why was it that whenever Tristan DuGrey entered her life, things always shifted? No one else she'd ever met had the ability to affect her so quickly and with so little effort.

She buys a small bag of chips, getting extremely frustrated with the task of digging her money out of her cluttered bag. Rory rips open the bag in anger, accidentally spilling some chips onto the floor. As she bends down to pick them up, she hears Tristan's voice. She looks up quickly and expectantly despite herself, but is surprised to find that he's not standing above her, smirk prepared. He's sitting at a table across the room, involved in conversation with a girl that Rory didn't recognize. The girl is absolutely stunning, tall, thin and shapely, her long blonde hair falling down her perfectly tanned back. Rory can't take her eyes off the pair, though she keeps telling herself to. Tristan was smiling and the girl was laughing. She watches as Tristan offers her part of her lunch, which she waves away with another peal of laughter, as if the notion were the silliest thing she'd ever heard.

"Girls like her probably don't eat," Rory mutters to herself, annoyed. She glances down at her bag of potato chips. So what if Tristan was hanging with this other girl, talking with her, laughing with her. He could marry her for all she cared. "How typical of him," she mumbles, thinking that this girl was exactly the type she had always seen him with. The mindless, beautiful kind who found him infinitely charming and irresistably gorgeous. Crunching her half-full bag of chips into a ball, Rory tosses it into the garbage quite harshly and heads back out toward the pool.

Tristan sees Rory as she walks out, wondering if she had seen him. Not that it mattered. When Anna had come over and asked to sit with him, he had figured what the hell. Rory was obviously with Dean and happy with him; he had vowed to himself back at the end of school that he was going to get over Rory. It was considerably harder a task to accomplish when he kept running into her. The fact that neither of them could ever resist falling into their easy banter didn't help matters either. Tristan had thought about the possibility of the two of them becoming friends, but it was quickly turning into a vicious circle. He would try to smooth things over, they'd start to make some kind of headway, then he would find himself falling in love with her all over again and get angry with himself. He'd pull back, or she would pull back, and then they'd be back at square one again. Everything Rory did just confused him. They got along well at the mall, then she ran away. She returned the tickets to him even though she had agreed to keep them, but then she had come over and started a conversation with him today of her own voalition.

Tristan tries to pay attention to what Anna is saying, but he's having a hard time. He had run into Anna a couple of times over the past month; her parents were good friends with his parents, which didn't exactly give Anna a good start in his book. She was a junior at an all girls boarding school in Vermont and he had spent some time practically every summer hanging out with her. Their parents often pushed them together at parties and other events. Anna never seemed to mind, but Tristan did. The fact that his parents wanted the match drove him crazy, as did Anna's annoying tendency to laugh at things he said that weren't even funny. But Anna had made it clear to him in no uncertain terms that she wanted him and planned to get him, and since he needed something to get his mind off Rory, he figured he might as well spend some time trying to find some character traits of Anna's that he could make himself like.

He forces a smile as Anna says something that should have garnered a charming laugh, trying to stop thinking about Rory Gilmore. The whole point of eating lunch with Anna was to stop thinking about Rory being so nearby, just out at the pool. He sighs, realizing that it's useless. In fifteen minutes he'd have to be back on duty anyway, and there Rory would be yet again. With Dean.

"I think you and I should do something for the Fourth of July," Anna suggests, resting her head on her hands and propping her elbows up on the table. She gazes at Tristan attentively. "There's this really great celebration in the park downtown that I went to last year. Do you want to go?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Tristan shakes his head, coming out of his thoughts. Anna laughs lightly.

"You are just so adorable when you get distracted," Anna coos, smiling. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Oh, I think one of my teacher's probably mentioned it before when I nodded off in class," Tristan jokes and leans back in his chair. Anna laughs again and Tristan knows he's made a full recovery. "So, what were you saying about the Fourth of July?"

"I was inviting you to spend it with me. Downtown in the park," Anna fills him in. "This year they're playing Independence Day against the walls of one of the buildings, like the do at Bryant Park in New York City. People pack picnics and stuff like that. It's really great."

"Sounds like a good time," Tristan replies. "Do you want to meet there or do you want me to pick you up?"

"Why don't I come to your house before for a few...pre-party fireworks? And then we can just leave from there? Your house is closer to the park, after all..." Anna suggests coyly, actually winking at him. Tristan stops himself from rolling his eyes at her outrageousness, wondering why the girls that always seemed to be attracted to him were the kind who probably would've taken anyone as long as he was cute.

"That sounds great, Anna," Tristan can't help sounding slightly sarcastic, but luckily she doesn't pick up on it. "Why don't you call me tomorrow and we can work out the exact details? I have to get back to work now, unfortunately." Tristan musters up his best pout and a slow smile spreads across Anna's face. She stands up and gives him a short kiss on the lips, twining her fingers in the black cord of the whistle hanging around his neck, her fingernails scraping his chest lightly.

"Can't wait until then," Anna whispers quite seductively, turning away and picking up her tennis racket. "I have to go meet mother for another set," she explains in a normal voice, as if just seconds earlier she hadn't been giving him a cloaked proposition. "Maybe I'll stop by for a dip in the pool later to cool off."

"See you later then," Tristan murmurs before walking away, never more relieved to be free of someone's company. It wasn't even Anna; she actually was a decent person overall, and far more intelligent than she appeared to be. But she wasn't Rory. I can't win, Tristan thinks. I tell myself to find someone else because I can't have Rory, but when someone else comes along, I can't get past Rory.

Frustrated, Tristan mutters a few strong expletives under his breath and kicks the wall with his foot. Which in turn makes him swear again as well as earn a few strange looks from people walking by. He pauses for a moment and gets a grip on himself, taking a few deep breaths. Just pretend she's not here.

Impossible.

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thank you again for all your reviews. 


	5. Hide

_Chapter 5: Hide_

"How was hell?"

"I don't know, I haven't been there," Rory replies to her mother's blunt greeting, tossing her bag onto the living room sofa. She plops down with an exhausted sigh next to Lorelai. "And I thought that technically you considered Grandma and Grandpa's house to be hell."

"Well, the country club is merely an extension of that. Another circle of hell, if you will."

"Ah. I see it all now."

"So?" Lorelai looks at Rory, patting her knee. "Tell me something reassuring, like how you and Lane threw spitballs at Miriam Johnston's big floppy straw hat or how Dean had to ward off all the bored, love-starved housewives' advances with his bare hands. Was he just like Johnny Castle, turning down some snooty woman for Baby?"

"There are so many things wrong with that, I don't even know where to begin."

"What? Patrick Swayze, Jennifer Grey pre-nose job, Jerry Orbach pre-Voice of the candle in Beauty and the Beast...Dirty Dancing is the best movie ever!"

"You said that about American Pie."

"Another damn fine piece of cinema. What?" Lorelai throws up her hands in reaction to Rory's strange look. "It was hilarious! You're coming to see the second one with me, right?"

"I'll have to squeeze it in after my lobotomy."

"You and your schedules," Lorelai mutters, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into the pillows. "Are you going to give your mother the littlest, smidgeon of a detail from your day?"

"Uh...it was really hot..."

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Okay, okay...Grandma played bridge and Grandpa was talking business, both of them remaining inside in the wonderful air conditioning."

"The three of you, I take it, did not take advantage of that technological marvel."

"No, we didn't. Went outside, came this close to doing Wicked Witch of the West impressions, but saved ourselves from becoming piles of goo by spending a massive amount of time in the pool."

"That's a nice pool."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, anything else?"

"Not really..." Rory looks away a second too soon and she is betrayed by her own actions.

"Not really? You're fibbing."

"Fibbing? What's next, are you going to put on an apron, tell me I'm telling you a falsehood, send me to bed without dinner and then bar me from going to the Sunday church picnic?"

"Nevermind the language, you're not verbalizing your way out of this one. What happened?" Lorelai pressures, sitting up straight. Rory is quiet, prompting Lorelai to pout and make a whimpering noise. "You're breaking my heart over here, kid."

"Tristan was there," Rory reluctantly mumbles. Lorelai's face lights up, just like Rory knew it would. "Don't...please?"

"Tristan...eh?" Lorelai nods knowingly. "Bet he was looking all nice in his khakis and country club polo shirt."

"No, actually he was wearing a pair of swimming trunks and not much else," Rory tells her, trying to grimace but not succeeding.

"And I bet you caught yourself looking at him a few times too many."

"No, but Lane certainly did. I almost had to get her a drool bucket."

"Not surprising. So, Tristan was swimming with you or was he just wearing swimwear off for the modeling purposes?"

"Try lifeguarding purposes."

"Oo, a lifeguard. You should've faked like you were drowning, then he could've saved you."

"The possibility crossed Lane's mind."

"But not yours."

"You seem to forget that Dean exists whenever Tristan comes into the conversation. It's like all of a sudden I'm single and you have me chasing after Tristan like all the other blonde bimbos he has following him around."

"That's amusing."

"What is?"

"You did this really funny voice and face thing when mentioning those bimbos."

"Because they disgust me."

"I think you're jealous."

"I am not jealous of any girl who wants to go after Tristan. More power to them."

"Okay..."

"Why do you do this? What is it about Tristan that has got you so wrapped up in getting me to like him? I don't understand you."

"You never understand me."

"But this time I really don't, I'm not just kidding. I'd like an explanation. Do you have something against Dean?" Rory stares at her mother, who shifts in her seat and makes a wishy washy face, trying to find a way to explain herself to her daughter.

"I don't have anything against Dean, honestly. He's a great guy, apart from the whole breaking your heart thing he did earlier this year. It's just that...I don't know, Rory...I just...I look at Tristan...I look at him and I see myself. I see how I felt at that age, how my life was...how trapped and how alone I felt," Lorelai hesitates, then gives up. "I look at him and I see me, okay? And I know that you could help him in the way that I wasn't."

"By dating him?"

"No...Rory, I'm just doing that to tease you, because it's fun. You get so worked up and it's just too irresistable a temptation. I know you're with Dean again and I don't want the two of you to break up or anything."

"Then what do you want?"

"I think that he's a kid who has everything he could ever want as far as material things go, but he lacks the relationships that are going to make him a complete person."

"He has friends. He's had many girlfriends."

"What kind of friends? What kind of girlfriends?" Lorelai fires back. "He needs someone real, Rory. And right now, I think that someone is you."

"See, I think that someone should be Paris."

"I think you tried that one already, dear," Lorelai reminds her. Rory rolls her eyes.

"Okay, true enough. But why does that someone have to be me?"

"Why? Because you're special."

"A real reason, Mom."

"I don't think the question is why, but why not? What are you so afraid of? I know the two of you can get along if you make your minds up to it, there's been glimmers of that every once in awhile, right? Like at the mall?"

"Yes..." Rory admits.

"So, you just have to stop the second-guessing and the childishness and be friends. And that's that."

"That simple?"

"It's amazing the simplicity that comes with concise decisions and clarity."

"If I'm friends with Tristan, Dean isn't going to like it."

"And Dean dictates your life? You're a Gilmore girl, Rory. We'll have none of that in this house. You be friends with who you want to be friends with and jealous silly boyfriends can take a hike."

"You would've been a great poster girl for the feminist movement."

"Another missed opportunity. If only I wasn't like, ten at the time."

"Damn the luck," Rory makes a shucks motion and stands up. "Making coffee. Want some?"

"Of course."

Rory gets up and walks to the kitchen. A few minutes later she calls Lorelai in.

"There is no coffee in that pot. That's a bad thing."

"I'm still figuring out this new coffee maker. You'd think it'd be an easy task, but this is just an insane amount of strange steps to get used to," Rory explains, flipping through the instruction book. Lorelai takes the book from her hands and throws it over her shoulder.

"No instructions! We've had this baby for over a month now, we've got to conquer it."

"Or we could get a coffee maker less likely to get a life of its own and take over our house."

"It makes such good coffee when we get it to work, though," Lorelai whines. She presses a few buttons and suddenly it starts to make noise. "See! Only took a couple of tries. We're improving."

"You are, but I'm not," Rory replies as she sits down at the table. A bright blue flier that's laying on top of her mother's messy stack of papers catches her eye and she picks it up. "What's this?"

"What's what?" Lorelai twists around to look. "Oh, that. I got that in the mail today. What do you think?"

"About this?"

"No, about Tom and Nicole. Of course that. You wanna go?"

"It sounds like fun. We could pack a huge picnic basket and everything. Cheer on Will Smith as he parades through a terrible action movie."

"Dude, that's not a bad movie. Bill Pullman is the President."

"Ah yes, a sure sign of Oscar worthy watching. Big explosions, alien life forms, and a mediocre actor playing our president."

"Better than George Dubya."

"Well, that's hardly a compliment. Haley Joel Osment would be a more believable world leader."

"He's a wicked smart little kid. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Only you, Mom."

"I know, I'm one of a kind," Lorelai laughs, bending down to watch the coffee slowly drip down into the pot.

"But anyway, this sounds like a good time. I can bring Dean and Lane, and of course, Max will probably meet us there-" Rory stops, noticing her mother's shoulders tense. "What's wrong?" Lorelai slowly turns to her daughter, wincing slightly.

"Max won't be coming with us."

"What happened?"

"Well, ya know how we were talking about those simple, concise decisions that bring clarity?"

"Yes..." Rory draws out slowly, not having a good feeling about what her mother is going to say.

"Max and I had lunch today and I said no." Lorelai blurts out quickly, leaving Rory absolutely stunned.

"You said...no?"

"Yep."

"When did you decide that?"

"Oh...as I said it."

"What?"

"Well, I was just sitting there and he asked me what I was thinking about...I looked into those big puppy dog eyes of his, and suddenly I just got this feeling. This feeling in my gut that told me that it wasn't him. He's not the man I'm supposed to be with for the rest of my life."

"Are you sure that wasn't that commitment phobia feeling that was telling you that?"

"No, it wasn't." Rory doesn't believe her. "It wasn't! I know the difference. If it were that, my heart would be going a mile a minute and I'd be all panicky, flipping out. And I wouldn't be this calm now. I mean, I was calm then. I merely looked at him...and I felt serene. I felt confident. I just knew. I was looking at him, going 'are those the eyes I'm going to see every morning when I wake up until the day I die?' That's supposed to be reassuring, romantic...but I just didn't feel it. I can't imagine growing old with him, having to wash his dentures and having him pick me up when I fall on the ground and can't get up."

"Horrible imagery there, Mom."

"Sorry. The point is that he's just not the guy for me."

"And you're not freaking out about this?"

"Oh, I'm sure I will. I was a little wacky right after he said that he couldn't see me anymore and left me there alone, but Sookie was there to help. And she didn't make me pay for our food, so that was a plus." Lorelai stops, reaching out and taking Rory's hand in hers as she sits down across from her at the table. "Oh honey, are you okay with this? I know I didn't really give you any time to prepare for this. It was kind of a spur of the moment decision."

"No, I'm okay, I just..." Rory is a bit shaken. "It's gonna be weird to see him in school next year, that's all."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. I never meant to put you in a position like that."

"It's okay...I mean, it's not like I would've rather had you marry him just to save me from a few awkward moments passing by him in the hallway. He's not even my teacher anymore," Rory replies, finally getting her bearings back. "And to tell you the truth, I was really beginning to think that he wasn't right for you anyway. He's a great guy and all and you guys really got along, but you never seemed to fit together or be on the same page."

"Exactly," Lorelai shrugs. "And who knows, maybe a few years from now we'll bump into each other on a crowded street, a sign, like fate. Maybe someday we'll be in synch. But right now, it's just not the right thing for me."

"I agree."

"But I still think I need to wallow tonight."

"Perfect, because they're showing romance classics on AMC."

"But I can't go to Doose's and get junk food because Miss Patty knows about me and Max cause she came to the Inn today just as Max was leaving. I dodged her then, and I can't face her pity until at least tomorrow morning."

"I'll go the market right now and get stocked up, you don't have to move a muscle," Rory jumps up, gives her mother a kiss on the forehead and races for the door. "I'll be back before you can say cucharacha, so don't drink all the coffee."

Lorelai sits there for a moment after Rory leaves, lost in her own thoughts. Smiling faintly to herself, she stands up and walks to the cupboard, getting out two mugs, one that says Lorelai and another that says Little Lorelai on it.

"I have the best daughter on the planet," she murmurs happily, thanking her lucky stars that she had Rory to depend on at times like this. She goes and retrieves the now full pot of coffee and fills the two mugs, then sits down and waits patiently for Rory to return.

* * *

"What can I get for you three fine ladies this afternoon?" Luke greets Lorelai, Rory and Lane as they walk into the diner. The three of them exchange confounded looks as Luke sets three large cups of iced coffee in front of them. "I saw you coming and I figured you'd need these."

Lorelai is dumbfounded.

"If I knew that being in a good mood was all it took to shut you up, I would've gladly smiled at you a few times in order to get a few minutes of silence while in your presence," Luke snorts, amused.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in an actual good mood before, grant me a little leeway here, Luke," Lorelai replies almost breathlessly, staring at him. She glances down at the tall glass of iced coffee in front of her, taking a seat as if needing to sit down before she faints.

"Did you start doing drugs, Luke?" Rory asks, eyeing him strangely. "Or maybe aliens came down to Stars Hollow during the night and your body was taken over by a pod person?"

"It's possible Luke just enjoys the Fourth of July," Lane theorizes, and both Gilmore girls immediately shake their heads no.

"Luke doesn't like holidays as a general rule."

"Luke also doesn't like being discussed like he's not even here," Luke interrupts. "And as a matter of fact, I do happen to like the Fourth of July. It's the one holiday were Taylor never stops by to bother me about decorating."

"Why not? There's patriotic decorations to be had. Red, white and blue bunting, a nice big flag...perhaps special American flag patterned napkins or a cardboard cutout of Uncle Sam you could prop up in the corner?"

"I've always wondered who exactly Uncle Sam is supposed to be," Lane says. "I mean, how did the concept of a tall, thin guy with white hair come to represent this country? And why would any person in their right mind join the army just because that guy says he wants you to? What kind of incentive is that?"

"Well...maybe if you are an young gay man who loves camoflauge and is attracted to older men with gray, uncontrollable hair who have patriotic fashion style and wear top hats, and doesn't mind the intense narrow mindedness and homophobia that typically is associated with our nation's military service, it would be incentive."

"Excellent point," Lane nods, smiling. Luke glares at Lorelai, who giggles.

"Even when he's in a supposed good mood, he can still glare like nobody else. Anyone ever tell you that you look sexy when you glare?"

"Actually they have," Luke retorts sarcastically. "They say I smolder with burning intensity."

"They do not," Lorelai laughs. "And smoldering with burning intensity? I believe you've missed your calling as a heated, passionate romance novelist."

"I knew there was a reason I felt so unfulfilled," Luke replies, smirking. Lorelai picks up her glass and takes a long sip, then closes her eyes and sighs.

"Luke, I think you should just ditch this whole restaurant thing and focus mainly on selling coffee as well as coffee inspired drinks. Give Starbucks a run for their money."

"And spread Satan's Syrup to even more unsuspecting souls? I think not."

"I thought Satan's Syrup was alcohol," Rory cuts in. "At least that's how they referred to it during the Temperance Movement and-"

"You know what I think?" Lorelai doesn't even hear Rory, too intent on pestering Luke. "I think that you're a secret coffee hound. You've probably got a can of Folger's stashed in your sock drawer, in your bathroom closet...in the glove compartment of your car...You're a true coffee-aholic. You're worse than Meg Ryan with her booze in that When a Man Loves a Woman movie."

"You're delusional."

"You're in denial. All this talk, all this blustering...you're covering up the sad, sad truth. You're worse than any of us."

"Could you two stop flirting for a few minutes so we can order some food?" Rory suddenly says, and both Lorelai and Luke look at her. She shrinks back slightly, trying not to smile. Lane is unable to stifle her own giggle, finding Rory's statement incredibly amusing and the looks on Lorelai and Luke's faces to be even more so. Lorelai stammers for a response.

"Well...of course you can order something," Lorelai states, smiling forcedly and not addressing Rory's flirting comment. "What do you guys want?"

"We'll have the usual, but can Lane and I have extra fries today? I'm in a fry mood."

"Sure thing. Lorelai?" Luke almost chokes on her name, not believing Rory has said that...out loud. Lorelai fidgets nervously for a moment, then hops up from her seat.

"I'll have that nifty turkey sandwich thingy you make, with the cheese?" Lorelai says.

"Sure thing," Luke replies, knowing what she means.

"We're gonna go...sit." Lorelai gestures to a table by the back where it's a little cooler, away from the bright sunlight streaming in through the front windows. Luke turns and heads to the kitchen and Lorelai follows Lane and Rory to their seats. "We were not flirting, Rory," Lorelai states strongly as she sits down, setting her purse on the table top. Rory just grins.

"You were too."

"I was not. That's just me and Luke. That's how we work. That's how we always act."

"I didn't mean that the flirting was just limited to this visit. You always flirt with Luke. Yesterday you even did the hair flip thing."

"I did not! Lorelai Gilmore, you're just making things up now," Lorelai exclaims defensively. "I do not flirt with Luke." Rory doesn't say anything, just shrugging and humming lightly to herself. It's clear she doesn't believe a word of what Lorelai is saying. Frustrated, Lorelai turns to Lane. "Lane, tell Rory that I do not flirt with Luke."

"But you do flirt with Luke."

"I hate you both. I think you're paying for your own lunches today."

"Perfectly all right," Rory just shrugs again, very laid-back. "I can pay for all my own food from this day forth but that's not going to change the fact that you and Luke flirt with each other like teenagers from Sweet Valley High."

"Oh, take that back! What an insult!" Lorelai cries out. "Sweet Valley High? Rory, you could've at least said 90210. That show at least had some credibility, even if Luke Perry was in it."

"90210 was a really good show," Lane says mock sincerity, doing her own interpretation of Winona Ryder's Melrose Place line from Reality Bites. Rory and Lorelai recognize her joke and both start laughing, momentarily forgetting their debate over Luke.

"What are you giggling about now?" Luke asks, pulling up a chair and turning it backwards. He sits down and looks at them. "You're tittering over here like chipmunks and scaring the other customers."

"It's what we do best," Lorelai replies, folding her hands and looking at him. She's about to say something else but bites it back, tossing a look at Rory.

"What are you doing tonight?" Rory inquires, realizing her mother is not about to say anything else. "Going to see the fireworks down at the beach?"

"No, I thought I'd stay here and watch the fireworks in New York City on television while I mop up the mess that the second grade baseball team makes in here every single year."

"Sounds like a rockin' good time," Lorelai snorts. "You should close the place down and go do something fun."

"Like come with us," Rory suggests. Lorelai gives her daughter a questioning look.

"Yeah, you should!" Lane chimes in. "We're going downtown to the city park. Sookie is coming and so is Dean. We can make it a whole big group event."

Luke glances at Lorelai, trying to read her expression. Ever since she had said no to Max, he couldn't decide how to act around her. Inside he was happy that she wasn't going to marry the guy, but he couldn't figure out if she was happy about it or not. He also couldn't figure out if this meant he was getting a second chance at telling her how he really felt, or if he was doomed to remain silent about his love for her for even longer.

"Uh...I don't know, kiddo," Luke mumbles, looking uncertainly at Rory. "I don't think I-"

"Oh, shut up. You should come," Lorelai finally says, slapping his shoulder. "Don't be silly. It'll be fun. And it will get you out of dealing with rambunctious seven year olds with bats. If they ever gave in to mob mentality and decided to gang up on you, you'd be in serious trouble. I think you should come with us for your own safety."

"My own safety, eh?" Luke repeats, looking skeptical.

"Yes, because I really don't feel like having to visit you in the hospital. I'm a busy woman and hospital visits would definitely cramp my schedule."

"Well, as long as I'm doing this for your convenience," Luke rolls his eyes, standing up.

"Is that a yes?" Rory inquires, not sure.

"I suppose I could go...I haven't celebrated the Fourth in a long time. I guess it could be fun."

"Good. We're leaving at seven o'clock. If you're not at our house by seven thirty, which is when we'll really be ready, I'm going to come over and beat you."

"You're very violent today."

"Too much of The Sopranos, coupled with the bitterness of not being able to buy this really great thingy last night on the shopping channel."

"I'm thankful you didn't buy it, whatever it was," Luke says.

"It was a door bell that played the I Dream of Jeannie theme song! How can you not love that?"

"I stopped her, thank me. I hid her credit cards."

"Smart girl," he nods in her direction in approval. "You can have a free dessert for that."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Luke replies and walks toward the kitchen. Rory smiles and claps her hands together in happiness.

"If only every day was a Taylor Doose-free day for Luke."

"Don't be so happy about it yet. Taylor might be able to sneak over here in between the parade he's organizing, the pageant he's directing and the reading of the Declaration of Independence in the town square. All of Luke's happiness will be crushed into a pile of dust."

"I'm surprised he agreed to come tonight. I figured he was going to say no," Lane voices, apparently still retaining a little of that surprise.

"Yeah, what was with the random invite, Rory?" Lorelai turns to her daughter, raising an eyebrow and eyeing her suspiciously.

"I just thought it'd be nice to have Luke come along, since he didn't have any plans. Why, don't you want him to come? Why wouldn't you want Luke to come?" Rory sounds almost accusatory, but she's really not all that concerned. She's just pressing her mother's buttons.

"I never said I didn't want Luke to come with us, Rory," Lorelai acts like Rory's questions are completely out of left field. "I don't care. In fact, hanging with Luke is a great idea, it'll be fun. It just seemed very unlike you to ask him to come, that's all. Out of the ordinary."

"It's not an ordinary day," Rory retorts simply, then twirls her straw happily through her tall glass of iced coffee, the ice cubes tinkling merrily against the glass. "I think tonight's gonna be really great. Things have been kind of off between Dean and I lately and I think this is exactly what we need."

"What do you mean, off?" Lane looks concerned and both Lorelai and she wait for Rory to explain.

"Not anything major," Rory says quickly. "It's just we haven't gotten a chance to spend much time together. He's always working or playing baseball or I'm busy...we just keep falling out of step with each other. The country club was the first time in a week that we'd seen each other."

"Well, you're both busy, active people. Maybe you should find something that the both of you could do. Hey...you could get a job at the market! You could bag groceries together, stock shelves...it'd be romance amongst the paper products. Passion in the produce section."

"How heavenly," Rory remarks sarcastically. "I think I'll pass though. Things are going to be okay, I think. Nothing to be worried about. I'm sure that after tonight things are going to be fine."

"Good to hear. And if they're not, I think that you should talk to Dean about how you're feeling. Or else you'll end up exploding at him and that's not a pretty picture," Lorelai says. "Or even worse, it could prompt you to wear that darling little apron again and cook him potatoes from a box."

"I'm so miffed that I missed that," Lane laughs and Rory blushes.

"I should've gotten pictures, I'm sorry," Lorelai apologizes to Lane. "Maybe Rory can dig out the costume again for Halloween this year."

"Enough teasing about the apron," Rory pleads. Luke approaches the table, balancing their three plates, saving Rory from any further embarrassment.

"Here you go," Luke sets each plate down carefully.

"Thanks," Lorelai tells him, smiling at him warmly. Luke is caught off guard by her beautiful smile, since he had been expecting a teasing greeting or sarcastic barb.

"No problem," he mumbles, tearing his eyes away from hers. Rory and Lane exchange looks. Luke turns his attention to them, trying not to act flustered. "Anything else I can get for you guys?"

"No, we're cool," Rory says, then refocuses her gaze to her mother as Luke walks away. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That look!"

"What look? Rory, did you hit your head on something hard this morning?" Lorelai asks.

"No, not this morning," Rory retorts. "Did you?"

"No, not that I recall."

"Glad we got that cleared up," Lane says, sensing that Lorelai was getting slightly irked. "This food looks fabulous. I am so starved. My mom made this terrible oatmeal this morning for breakfast and it tasted like wallpaper paste."

"You've eaten wallpaper paste before? Wow, you were an ambitious child. Rory just ate the Elmer's paste in kindergarten. I guess her tastes weren't as exotic as yours."

"Hey, Lorelai-"

"Have you ever eaten paste?"

"What?" Luke gives her a strange look.

"Have you ever eaten paste, like glue?"

"Knowingly?"

"How do you unknowingly eat paste?"

"I don't know, it's possible," Luke replies. "Why are we talking about this again?"

"I was drawing you into our conversation."

"Well, erase me because I have to leave."

"Pardon?"

"I have to go run across to the market really quick, we ran out of butter. I left Jim in charge-" Luke gestures toward the counter where his one extra employee, a tall, gangly man who looks bored out of his mind, is standing. "But can you kind of keep an eye on things and make sure he doesn't burn the place down?"

"I'll make sure he doesn't, but I make no guarantees that I won't," Lorelai grins mischievously, twiddling her fingers like Mr. Burns from The Simpsons.

"Rory?" Luke glances at her and she nods.

"Under control."

"I'll be right back."

"He's no fun," Lorelai pouts. "I'd never set this place on fire. Not on purpose, anyway."

* * *

Lorelai pulls to a stop with a screeching halt and Rory thanks god that there were no cars directly behind her at that moment.

"There's a spot! Finally!" She cries out, putting on her right hand directional and slipping the Inn's travel van into reverse. With skill and ease she easily parallel parks into the relatively small space.

"Nice job," Luke comments, surprised she didn't hit anything.

"After years of motorcycles and sports car fetishism, you bet your ass I can drive like a pro," Lorelai remarks proudly and opens her car door only to have to shut it again instantly, almost getting it knocked off by a passing car.

"You were saying?"

"Hey, just because I lack the ability to check the road before I get out doesn't mean I'm a bad driver," Lorelai laughs, tugging the strap of her pale blue tank top back into place. "It means I'm a bad get-out-of-the-car-er. Person."

"You're truly a psychotic."

"Why thank you." She looks back at Sookie, Lane, Dean and Rory with excitement brimming in her eyes. "You guys ready for some crazy, crazy fun?"

"Of course!" Sookie exclaims, giggling. "But don't buy any of the fried dough here, it's awful. I made some for us all this afternoon and it's in the back with all of our picnic materials. I made cotton candy and taffy too, in really pretty colors."

"You have too much time on your hands," Luke mutters as he climbs from the passenger seat.

"No, I am dedicated to making the best food possible whenever I can. Preparing food is like an art form," Sookie replies. Lane glances at Rory, remembering their Diner Dude / Gourmet Guy conversation, but Rory wasn't even listening. Dean was helping her get down from the van and she was too wrapped up in him to notice.

"Food is food, Sookie. It either tastes good or it doesn't. It's that simple."

"No arguing about food tonight, you two!" Lorelai commands. "Make peace now or you're both going to sit in the van."

"Fine," Luke mumbles, opening up the car door and starting to get back in. Lorelai races over and pulls him back out.

"Stop being a dork!" She exclaims, pushing him onto the sidewalk. He grunts, fixing his gray t-shirt which Lorelai had managed to almost rip in the process of dragging him from the van.

After they're all out and the van is unloaded, the group stands on the sidewalk and surveys their options. "We got a good spot for being so late. The park is only a block away. Someone must have left." Everyone picks up an object and they start heading in the direction of the park, but Dean stops in his tracks as a sleek, sparkling, brand new silver Camaro with deeply tinted windows comes down the street from the opposite direction at a fast pace and turns into a private parking lot for the office building across the street.

"Wow, that is a nice car," he says, and Lorelai joins him in gaping.

"Get me one of those babies," Lorelai remarks, adjusting her grip on the cooler she's holding. They both stare for a moment longer, then turn to go. "Oh well...maybe after I win the lottery."

"If you win the lottery you're going to buy me one too, hon," Sookie jokes, nudging her with the tray of baked goods she had brought along with her.

"Sookie, you do realize that there's only six of us, right? You're not feeding an army," Luke tells her, surveying the array of goods she had unloaded from the van. Sookie merely shrugs him off and heads off toward the park.

Rory is about to follow everyone else down the sidewalk when she sees the driver of the car emerge, along with the passenger. It was Tristan. And that blonde bombshell from the country club. Clutching the picnic blanket closer to her, she turns away quickly, not wanting Tristan to see her, and hurries to catch up with Dean. She slips her hand into his and smiles at him, trying to ignore the way she's feeling inside. Lane notices Rory struggling to keep a smile on her face and moves close to her.

"What's the matter?" Lane whispers.

"That car was Tristan's," Rory whispers back through clenched teeth, not needing to say anything more. Lane gets the point all too well.

* * *

"Rory, what are you doing?" Lorelai pulls her daughter aside as Rory glances over her shoulder for about the fiftieth time in the past five minutes. "Excuse us for a moment," she mutters to Dean and Lane, leading Rory a safe distance away from her friends. "Is there a psycho killer after you that I don't know about? You're acting like you're auditioning for the next installment of Scream."

"They stopped making those."

"That's what they always say, until suddenly there's another one playing at the multiplex. I think they're trying to go for that whole sneaking up behind you and surprising you tactic that so often is shown in horror movies, but it's really just plain old annoying. Like, 'Surprise, there's another Scream movie out! Bet you didn't see that coming!' And Neve Campbell is running around screaming again from that guy in the mask, but somehow she always survives. Why is that? It'd be nice to see a horror movie where everyone dies in the end. And I mean everyone, everyone."

"How very morbid of you."

"I like to think of it as an ingenious idea, a unique one. I think it'd be refreshing."

"Refreshingly morbid."

"Well, that doesn't matter because we weren't talking about me, we were talking about you. And your newly developed paranoia. Have you been reading Stephen King books late at night again?"

"No, but something far more horrific is lurking around here."

"Worse than Cujo?"

"By far."

"Not worse than It."

"It is nothing compared to this."

"Come on, It was damn scary."

"This is scarier."

"This being-?" Lorelai leads and Rory sighs resignedly.

"Tristan is here somewhere tonight, I saw him getting out of his car earlier."

"Oo, it was the really nice Camaro, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I figured as much when I noticed you hanging back and staring at it lingeringly. Seeing as how I'm the one with the jones for all fast things automotive, I guessed something else was up. So, are you expecting him to launch an ambush or something?" Lorelai makes her fingers into a gun and makes like James Bond. "I'll be on red alert."

"No-I just-whenever he and Dean get in the same area, Dean always gets so tense and things just don't go well. And I want tonight to be perfect and fun. Perfectly fun."

"Well, perfectly fun it shall be. Though it could end up being funnily perfect, in which case I'll have to make some quick fixits and get those adjectives to make a switcheroo."

"I'll settle for funnily perfect. I just don't want, you know-"

"Horribly terrible?"

"Precisely."

"Well, I'll go on watch, make a quick circle of the perimeter. See if anything is amiss," She glances back toward the group sitting on the large blanket. Sookie is unpacking all of the food and meticulously arranging it on the empty space in front of them and Luke looks like he's about to burst. "And I'll take Luke with me for extra protection."

"Yeah, good idea. It looks like his head is about to explode."

"Okay. You go back and sit with Dean and Lane, and don't worry your pretty little head about Tristan. I'm sure he won't bother you when he sees you're with Dean. He probably is here with other people anyway, right?"

"Yeah, some Barbie impersonator."

"She says with venom," Lorelai states, looking surprised. "What'd Barbie ever do to you? I know you were never a big fan of the color pink, but just because you don't like her fashion sense doesn't mean you have to hate the poor girl."

"You do realize of course that-"

"Yes, I realize Barbie's not real, and no, you're not going to manage to outwit this conversation and distract me further by arguing over the merits of the Barbie doll. I'm onto you. Now back to the point. Why are we sneering at Tristan's companion? Do we know her?"

"No, we don't know her."

"So we're sneering at her because we don't know her then."

"No, we're sneering at her because she the typical Tristan girl. Just when he manages to slightly improve my opinion of him, he shows his true colors. He hasn't changed a bit, all this time I've been slowly re-evaluating the way I viewed him and it was a pointless waste of time."

"It was a waste of time because he brought a date with him to see some fireworks? Honey, no offense, but you're being just a tad judgmental."

"I am not. I'm being realistic."

"I think you're just using this as an excuse to not be friends with him," Lorelai says.

"What?"

"Face it, Rory. You get along with him and enjoy his company but you don't want to admit it. I understand. I realize that being friends with Tristan is a lot harder than keeping the relationship you had last year. If you're enemies, you don't have to worry about Paris and you don't have to worry about upsetting Dean. It's clear that it's easier for you to dislike him."

"That's not why I don't think we should be friends," Rory replies, her voice wavering. "I'm not just taking the easy way out."

"Okay," Lorelai puts up her hands and takes a step back. "You want me to accidentally stick a whole bunch of cotton candy in his date's hair if I see them, then?"

"Mom-"

"What? I can make it look like a perfectly innocent accident. She won't suspect I did it on purpose!"

"That's okay, Mom. I don't think a secret attack is really necessary."

"All right. But I'm still going to do a surveillance sweep and locate their whereabouts," Lorelai responds, heading over to Luke and pulling on his arm. He stands up, rolling his eyes at her impatient tugging.

"What's the matter?"

"You and me are going for a walk right now. Don't ask any questions, just keep an eye out for Tristan DuGrey," she whispers so Dean won't hear. Luke eyes Lorelai suspiciously as she leads him away.

"And why are we doing this?"

"Were you not listening when I said don't ask any questions?" Lorelai exclaims. "Come on."

"I think this is a prime example of the one who follows the fool being more foolish," Luke mutters to Rory as he passes her, Lorelai already off to a head start. She turns around when she gets too far ahead of him.

"Come on, you slowpoke," She comes back and retrieves Luke, who grunts and reluctantly falls into step beside her. Lane stands up and walks to Rory, who still hasn't returned to her place beside Dean on the blanket.

"Why is your Mom forcibly dragging Luke away?"

"She finally woke up and realized she must have him. They're going some place private so she can have her way with him," Rory jokes and Lane snorts.

"Think not. What are they really doing?"

"Making sure Tristan is nowhere nearby."

"You're so lucky your Mom is crazy enough to actually do that for you."

"Yeah, I am," Rory smiles lightly.

"Hey, you two gossiping girlies! If you two don't stop talking and get your cute little butts over here, Dean and I are going to take all the food for ourselves," Sookie calls to Rory and Lane, beckoning them to come back. The two girls laugh and head back over.

"I think it would take more than just you two to make all of this disappear," Rory shakes her head as she glances over the vast display of food that Sookie has created. "You'd think we were having a buffet, not a picnic."

"It's a picnic buffet," Sookie replies. "It can be both." Rory sits down next to Dean and he smiles at her, wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek.

"What were you and your mom talking about?"

"Nothing," Rory replies. "You want some potato salad? Sookie makes the best potato salad in the world." She picks up the bowl and offers it to him, taking the spoon and getting ready to dish some onto his plate.

"No thanks. Not a fan of potato salad."

"Egg salad? Tuna salad? We got it all," Rory continues. "You can have any kind of salad you'd like, I believe."

"What about-shrimp salad?" Dean asks, purposefully trying to think of a salad that Sookie didn't make. Rory looks for it, and doesn't find it.

"Okay-no shrimp salad. But any other kind of salad you want, we got it-"

"Shrimp salad?" Sookie lunges for the cooler. "We've got shrimp salad. I'm keeping it on ice cause I really hate warm shrimp. Just terrible." She takes out the container and hands it to Dean.

"This is crazy," Dean sighs, opening up the Tupperware bowl.

"You should be grateful," Rory remarks, putting a scoop of strawberry Jell-o onto her paper plate. "If we didn't have Sookie to go overboard, my mom might've been tempted to cook something."

"Not pretty," Lane explains. "The last time Lorelai tried to cook, she tried to make pancakes but forgot the flour."

"They made really good Frisbees."

" I bet," Dean chuckles, imagining Rory and Lorelai tossing them around the kitchen, because he knew that Rory was not kidding about the Frisbees.

"Who wants chicken?" Sookie inquires, holding up a plate with a grin.

* * *

"So, who are we looking for again?"

"We're not really 'looking' for him, we're locating him. We just want to know where he is."

"Okay, just locating. Who are we locating?"

"Tristan."

"Who?"

"The blonde kid who came into the diner a few months ago? I'd be guessing you threatened to beat him up?"

"Ah. I hate that kid."

"Of course you do."

"So why are we finding him?"

"We don't want him to bother Rory tonight. Dean and Tristan don't get along and she doesn't want her evening ruined."

"They don't get along because Tristan likes Rory."

"My, you're perceptive."

"You're caustic tonight."

"I didn't mean it sarcastically. It's just that usually you're not that perceptive."

"When am I not perceptive? If any one here is unperceptive, I think it'd be you," Luke retorts. Lorelai stops in her tracks, gaping at him.

"Me? Unperceptive? Luke, I am the Queen of Perceptive. You have no idea what you're even talking about."

"Yes I do. You and Rory are exactly the same."

"In many ways we are, yes. We both have great hair and too much wit for our own good. But perception is something that we differ on. While she does not grasp the concept that dear Tristan loves everything about her, I, on the other hand, do."

"That's not what I meant, which just proves my point entirely."

"So what did you mean?" Lorelai inquires, setting her hands on his shoulders to stop him from walking away, which he is trying to do. "If I'm so blind, what is it that I'm not seeing? Does Tristan have like an Oedipus Complex and really likes me or something? If that's the case, then please keep it to yourself, because I have no desire to play Ms. Jacobs."

"Who?"

"Ms. Jacobs...you know, the teacher...with Pacey...on Dawson's Creek..." Luke's face is blank. "Okay, this is going over your head. I don't want to be Mrs. Robinson."

"That I understand. But I don't think you have to worry about that, because that's not at all what I was getting at. And the fact that your mind immediately leaped to that conclusion is slightly disturbing."

"I'm a disturbing woman. I have a PhD in freaking people out."

"I believe that," Luke grunts and starts to walk away. Lorelai pauses for a moment and then hurries after him.

"You didn't answer the question. What am I not noticing? If you're going to bait me, you shouldn't get all weirded out when I bite."

"Perhaps I realized that I didn't want to be fishing after all."

"So what, you're throwing me back in the water? I think not. This fish has swallowed the hook, I wasn't merely tugging on the line. Now spill. What do you know that I don't?"

"What do I know that you don't? I could fill an entire book with that information."

"Quit the funny, mister. I want some details and I want them now. Is it about Rory and Tristan?"

"No, it's not," Luke looks away, wishing he hadn't opened his mouth. What had he been thinking? He immediately starts searching his brain for anything that he could possibly tell Lorelai that wouldn't seem like a load of crap.

"Who's it about, then?"

"You."

"Me?" Lorelai says in disbelief. "What do you know about me that I don't know about me? You're not going to tell me that I was adopted as a child, are you? Cause that would explain so much. It'd probably cut years of therapy down. Though I think then I'd have some abandonment issues, so maybe in the end it'd all even out, you know? It seems either way, there's a definite old guy in glasses and a big flat couch waiting for me in the future. I'll probably even have to-"

Lorelai's words are stopped suddenly as Luke presses his lips to hers in an impulsive kiss. Lorelai's body tenses immediately, taken completely off guard by the feeling of Luke's mouth against hers, the strange tingling surging all the way down her spine. He pulls away abruptly, leaving Lorelai breathless and stunned. She stares at him, wide-eyed.

"Um..." Is all she can manage, at a loss for words. Luke stares back at her, not believing he had just done something so undeniably stupid. He didn't know what had come over her, but as she stood there babbling, the impulse had just come over him in a wave and he couldn't stop himself. From the look on her face, kissing Lorelai had not been a wise move. She still hadn't uttered a single coherent word.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Luke stutters, feeling the stupidest he'd ever felt in his entire life. "I shouldn't have...I mean...I didn't mean to...god...Lorelai, please say something."

"I...you know, I have a job that I'm supposed to be doing. That I'm not...doing. So I better go do it. You know...cause Rory will be mad if I don't." Lorelai takes a step back from Luke, running her hands through her hair nervously.

"That's all you're going to say?" Luke asks, hurt. "Lorelai, I just kissed you and..."

"Well, okay...yeah. So...I know you kissed me. I acknowledge that, it's acknowledged. Still processing it...but I am aware of some sort of lip lock taking place. But I'm going to have to deal with that later...you know, put it on the back burner for awhile. I'm on a mission here. I mean, the whole reason we went for this little walk was to find Tristan and make sure he, you know...well, I don't know what exactly we were supposed to do but whatever we ended up doing was gonna make Rory feel better! And that's what I should be doing, cause, I'm her mother. And that's what mothers do. Unless you're my mother. You're not my mother." Luke looks at her, puzzled. "I mean, I'm not my mother. Because obviously you're not my mother. That's even more obvious than the fact that I'm not my mother."

"I think we have it established that neither one of us is your mother."

"Yes, that we have. It was good to clear that up." Lorelai pauses, clearly fumbling for something to say. She glances around, then gestures off in a random direction. "I should be looking for Tristan right now. So...kiss later. Well, not kiss later...more like talk about the kiss later. If that's what it was. You did kiss me right?"

"Yes, I did."

"I thought so. For a second I thought maybe...it was in my head or something...but no. But...you know what..."

"You have to go."

"Right," Lorelai says. "I'm going to go."

"Okay."

"Okay." She nods and turns to go. Luke stares at her for a moment, the sight of her walking away cutting him right to the core.

"Lorelai..." Luke starts, then stops when Lorelai turns around and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights. "I..." She seems like she's bracing herself for something terrible. "Nevermind." Luke waves her off. "I'll see you later." Then he turns around and walks away, not even looking back at her once.

"Luke..." Lorelai calls after him, her voice cracking. He doesn't hear her. The look on his face had instantly smashed her heart into pieces. She is hurting him. She had hurt him. And now he's walking away. I'm staring at his back as he's getting farther away from me and I'm not saying anything. Why am I not saying anything? Idiot, say something! Lorelai demands of herself, but her voice simply isn't working. She didn't know what to say.

Lorelai looks away, about ready to burst into tears, and by the time she looks back in the direction Luke had gone, he has disappeared into the crowd.

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: A lack of Tristan I know but he will be making his apperance next chapter. Thanks again for all your reviews. 


	6. Jumping To Conclusions

_Chapter 6: Jumping to Conclusions_

"Where are you going?" Lane asks as Rory stands up, brushing a potato chip crumb that had somehow landed on her pant leg without her noticing.

"I'm going to find the rest rooms," she explains.

"You're going to use those gross Port-o-Potties that they have here? Rory...yuck."

"No, silly. They have public rest rooms around here that are in an actual building. Somewhere. Which is why I'm going to go find them."

"Oh. Well, good. Make sure to note their exact location for reference."

"Will do. I'll be back in a few minutes," Rory leans down and kisses Dean quickly before heading off across the park, weaving her way through the mess of blankets, strollers, lawn chairs, and various other objects until she hits the sidewalk that runs through the park. "Okay...where are you, bathrooms..." Rory says to herself under her breath, standing on tip-toe for a moment in hopes of spotting the building. She knows that it's brick and really boring looking, off to the side... "Ah ha." Locating it after a short search, Rory heads toward it with a sigh of relief. The line was really long, but at least it wasn't a Port-o-Potty.

"I hate waiting." Rory turns toward the stranger in line who is apparently speaking to her. She recognizes her immediately as the girl Tristan was with at the club, the one who was getting out of his car earlier that evening. Of all the strange, awful luck... "Sometimes I wish I could just dash into the men's room. Their lines are always so short, it hardly seems fair."

"No, I guess it doesn't," Rory replies, with a half-shrug, biting her lip. She turns back to face the front, not wanting to continue the conversation. Thankfully the girl doesn't say anything else and Rory manages to make it back outside without having to withstand any more chit chat.

She looks down to check her watch, and not looking where she is going, walks right into someone. She hits them quite hard, and the impact sends her ricocheting backward. The person grabs her arm and stops her from falling.

"Thanks," Rory murmurs, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry about that, I wasn't-" She looks up and groans mid-sentence. "Tristan. Hi."

"Hi, Rory," he mumbles back. Rory is confused that he doesn't exactly look happy to see her either. Usually he greeted her with a smirk of delight and a taunting comment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah...fine. You?"

"Fine," Tristan replies. He gazes at her for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well it was nice bumping into you, literally, but I have to go." He makes a move to walk past her. Rory screws up her brow quizically, not sure how to process Tristan's aloof behavior.

"Tristan, did you run into my mom already?" Rory asks, her mind already running through the myriad of possibilities that could have occurred if her mother had indeed talked to him. Tristan just looks confused.

"Your mom? No, I didn't even know she was here."

"Oh. Okay. I was just checking."

"Why, are you looking for her? Did you guys lose each other or something?"

"Not exactly," Rory shrugs.

"Oh. Well..." Tristan makes a move to leave again, but something compells Rory to stop him. "Are things okay, Tristan?"

"Okay? Yeah, sure, they're fine. Why wouldn't they be?"

"I don't know. You don't seem like things are okay."

"Well, things are just perfect," Tristan replies, his tone slightly bitter.

"If you say so," Rory mumbles in response, sensing that if she presses the issue any further he's going to go off on her. "So, I ran into your girlfriend in the bathroom."

"She's not my girlfriend. And how do you know that I'm here with Anna?"

"I saw you two before. She's not your girlfriend?"

"No," Tristan shakes his head. "I can barely stand her, honestly," Tristan looks down, shuffling his feet. Rory is surprised.

"If you don't like her, why are you hanging with her?"

"My parents want me to. She likes me. There was nothing else to do."

"Good reasons," Rory says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"We can't all be with the person of our dreams," Tristan remarks coldly, finally looking straight at her. "Just because you don't have to settle for less doesn't mean that other people don't have to."

"Tristan, that hardly seems like the best-"

"There you are! I thought you were going to buy something to drink, sweetie," Anna appears next to Tristan, turning him to her and laying a long kiss on his lips. Rory looks away, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

"I didn't get a chance to," Tristan explains. Anna notices Rory standing there and smiles at her.

"Hey, I was behind you in line," Anna exclaims with a large smile. "Isn't the lighting in those bathrooms just terrible? I hate fluorescent lights, they make me look so washed out. It's impossible to fix your make-up in there."

"Yes, just terrible," Rory replies with overdramatic condemnation, pounding her hand into her fist. "I don't know why we put up with such horrible public rest rooms! It's a disgrace." Rory can see Tristan biting back a smile and has to hold back her own.

"I know," Anna agrees earnestly, thinking Rory is serious. She glances back at Tristan. "So, how do you know adorable Tristan here? Are you one of his many exes?" Anna giggles and wraps her arm around Tristan's broad shoulders. "He certainly does have quite the record."

"No, we've never dated," Rory replies, not even bothering to conceal her disgust as Anna kisses Tristan on the cheek, continuing to hang all over him. Tristan is standing rigidly, not enjoying Anna's playful flirtation.

"Rory and I go to Chilton together."

"Your name is Rory? What a cute name. So unique."

"Thanks."

"Anna, why don't you go buy some Pepsi or something?" Tristan hands her a five dollar bill. "I have to just talk to Rory about some school stuff real quick."

"Okay. Don't take too long. You know how impatient I get." She takes the money from his hand and saunters off. Rory raises an eyebrow at Tristan.

"Real winner, Tristan."

"She's not that bad, really," Tristan shrugs. "Not my type, is all."

"You have a type? I had no idea you were discerning," Rory retorts. "To me it always seemed like any girl willing to make out was a perfect candidate for dating."

"Very funny," Tristan smirks.

"If you don't like her, why date her? Why use her like that?" Rory inquires, not thinking about how mean it sounded.

"I'm not using her. We're out on a date. Normal people do that. You've never been out on a date with someone you end up not liking?"

"No, I've only dated Dean."

"Well, maybe someday you'll be knocked off your high horse and you'll realize what I'm talking about," Tristan replies, starting to simply walk away from the conversation.

"What is wrong with you?" Rory exclaims.

"Excuse me?" Tristan whirls around, fire blazing in his blue eyes. They sparked with anger.

"I don't get you. One second you're being nice to me and I think that we can be friends and the next you're as nasty as Heathers. Why do you keep doing this to me?"

"You do the exact same thing, Rory," Tristan retorts venomously. "What do you want me to do? You continually tell me that you don't want to be my friend yet you keep talking to me and sometimes you even seem to be enjoying my company. Then all of a sudden you're back to your whole Tristan-is-bad routine and I end up on the receiving end of your contempt. Forgive me if I haven't exactly figured out how the hell I should act around you."

"Well maybe that's because you can't seem to decide whether or not you want to be my friend or to make my life miserable."

"Only because you keep making these first steps toward being friends and then running backwards the second it seems possible. At this point, I think it's just better if we forget the whole thing. It's not worth it."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Rory spins on her heel and stalks off, seething with anger. Tristan DuGrey is abominable, despicable. How could she have ever entertained the idea of being friends with that cretin?

She makes it halfway back to the place where Sookie, Lane and Dean are when she spots her mother, sitting on a park bench and staring off into space. Still furious with Tristan, she plops down next to Lorelai with a frustrated sigh.

"Hey, Mom. What happened to looking for Tristan? I just had an oh-so-pleasant encounter with him...I'd like to thank you for-" Rory stops, noticing that her mother hasn't even turned to look at her. It is also quite possible she hadn't heard a word that had just come out of Rory's mouth. "Mom?" Rory nudges her, shaking Lorelai from her thoughts.

"Rory!" Lorelai exclaims, surprised to see her. "Hello. How long have you been sitting there?"

"A few seconds. What's the matter?"

"What do you mean?" Lorelai asks. "And why aren't you with Dean and Lane?"

"I had to go to the bathroom. I ran into Tristan there."

"In the ladies room?"

"No," Rory replies. "Outside of it. Had a delightful little conversation that ended in both of us screaming at one another and then running off in a huff."

"Sorry."

"What happened to the whole...'I'll find Tristan for you and stop him from ruining your evening' plan you had?" Rory asks, not really mad at her mother but needing someone to vent upon.

"I was looking for him. And then I was looking for Luke. You haven't seen Luke, have you?"

"No...I thought Luke was with you."

"See, that's the funny part. He was with me. But then he wasn't."

"You guys lost each other?"

"Um...not exactly."

"Split up to better search the area?"

"You really couldn't say that."

"You're gonna have to help me out here, Mom. Did something happen?"

"Did something happen. Well, there's an interesting question. Yes, I suppose something happened. Something huge happened. Something really unexpected that really caught me off guard, and as a result Luke walked away and now I can't find him anywhere."

"What was this monumental thing that happened?" Rory asks, concerned. Lorelai sighs.

"You know in the movies when the guy and the girl are talking? And then all of a sudden out of nowhere the guy just totally cuts her off with this wildly passionate kiss and everything's supposed to be fabulous after that, all lovey-dovey and such?"

"Not really...but I'll pretend I do for the sake of your story..."

"Thank you. See, Luke and I were just walking along and that kind of happened. Except without the whole happiness afterward. There was no trilling of the music, no camera panning upward to the perfect blue sky, no grand professions of love. Just me freaking out."

"Wait...I don't understand what you're saying. Are you saying that Luke kissed you?"

"Kind of."

"Mom, either he didn't or he did. Unless he leaned in and missed."

"Okay, so maybe he did."

"Miss?"

"No, kiss."

"Luke kissed you."

"Yes."

"Luke kissed you?" Rory exclaims, stunned beyond belief. "Luke as in our Luke."

"No, Luke Skywalker."

"He kissed you. For real. On the lips."

"That's usually how kisses work, yes. If you don't know that by now, I think you and Dean may have a problem."

"Well I don't know! Maybe he like, kissed you on the cheek. Or the forehead. People kiss those places." Lorelai looks at her daughter hard, and Rory shrugs slightly, frowning. "So he kissed you. Then what happened?"

"I don't know. It's kind of a blur. I started babbling, I don't even remember what I said. And then he left. And I tried to say something that sounded right but I was just gasping like a fish out of water. Flapping about and squirming and overall just flipping out. I think I may have told Luke he was my mother as some point."

"You told him he was Grandma?"

"Somehow, yes, I think so."

"O...kay..."

"I don't know how that came about either."

"Bet that's what every guy loves to hear after he finally kisses the girl he loves."

"Luke does not love me."

"He must at least like you, if he's kissing you. At least I hope so." Rory scrutinizes her mother, her gaze sweeping over Lorelai's face studiously. "Do you want him to like you?"

"I don't know."

"Do you like him?"

"I don't know."

"Did you kiss him back? And don't say I don't know."

"I am-without knowledge?"

"Try again."

"Clueless and confused?"

"Wrong answer. Did you kiss him back, yes or no."

"I almost did." Rory gives her mother a look which says she isn't buying it. "He caught me by surprise!" Lorelai exclaims. "I tensed up, I didn't know how to handle it."

"Well, tell me this. Did you like him kissing you?"

"What is this, twenty questions?"

"No, merely five questions."

"I'm not good enough to get the full version of the game or something?"

"I can ask you twenty questions if it's going to give you self-esteem issues."

"Five is fine."

"So did you like it?"

"I didn't fully register it. It was a good kiss, but I haven't figured out what that means yet, so don't ask."

"It means Luke's a good kisser."

"What's your fifth question, you smart aleck punk?"

"Do you want him to kiss you again and if he did, would you kiss him back?"

"Hey, that's two questions." Lorelai points at her daughter accusingly. "Thought you could sneak that by me, huh?"

"It's a two-parter. Subdivisions. Part A and part B. Different facets of a general issue which all interconnect within the basic core of a single question. They're two people standing underneath one umbrella but you wouldn't put one person out into the rain just because the umbrella was made for one person."

"Now you've lost me. Far too complicated."

"Mom..."

"I'll mull it over and tell you tomorrow."

"I think you know the answer to that question and you're just too afraid to admit it."

"Answers to those questions. Multiple. You keep trying to act like you didn't turn your five question game into a six question tirade."

"It was only five questions."

"Maybe I should send you back to kindergarten so you can re-learn how to count," Lorelai suggests, tilting her head to the side and looking at Rory. Rory stands up, grabbing her mother's hand and pulling her up to stand next to her.

"Fine, I won't make you talk about it anymore. Let's go back to the picnic. They're probably wondering where we are anyway."

"That's it? You're not going to make me rate Luke on a scale of one to ten or ask me if I love him more than coffee?"

"You love nothing more than coffee."

"I love you more than coffee."

"Why thank you. I love you more than coffee too. Which is why I'll make sure not to be upset when you wake me up at three am tonight to worry over Luke."

"I'll remind you of that statement when you curse at me and throw a pillow at my head."

"Deal." There is a faint rumbling in the distance. Lorelai stops, looking up at the sky.

"Did you hear that? It sounded like thunder."

"It is the Fourth of July, Mom. I'd bet that it was the sound of fireworks going off somewhere."

"Not dark enough for fireworks yet. I think it was thunder."

"Maybe people were just getting impatient, like I am right now, and set them off early."

"Okay, I'm coming. I still think it was thunder though."

"All right, it was thunder," Rory concedes just so they can stop the debate.

They walk across the park back to where their friends are sitting, arguing over whether or not sugar waffles or fried dough are the best summer festival delicacy. Dean and Lane both look up as Rory sits back down, both apparently relieved at seeing her.

"Rory, what took you so long?" Lane asks, clutching her hand and moving close to her. "I have just had enough awkward conversation with Dean to set my boy-girl interaction confidence back for years," she whispers tightly. Rory holds back a laugh.

"Did you get lost or something?" Dean inquires, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Rory shrugs, smiling lightly and trying not to let on she'd had anything but a pleasant walk through the park.

"No, didn't get lost. I just ran into someone from school, that's all. Obligatory schmoozing with people I don't like in order to make life bearable at Chilton," Rory shrugs, telling a half-truth and telling herself it was better than an outright lie.

"Oh," Dean replies, not caring all that much as he's distracted by Sookie accidentally setting a bowl of pasta in his lap as Lorelai sits down next to her. He moves it without saying a word, shaking his head.

"Where did you go off to? And where's Luke?" Sookie asks Lorelai in a hushed voice.

"Luke is...well, he's somewhere." Lorelai rubs her hands on her jeans nervously, glancing over her shoulder. "I don't know where he went."

"I thought he was with you though."

"He was. But now he's not," Lorelai states, shrugging. "Big deal. He's a big boy, I'm sure he can find his way back to us on his own. Let's just not talk about it right now."

"Edgy, are we?" Sookie says, cocking an eyebrow. "I think you need some watermelon."

"I don't need watermelon, I need some kind of operation that will make me into a different person. I'd like to not be me right now."

"Who else would you want to be?"

"Oh, I don't care. I'm not choosy. Just anyone. Madonna would be nice."

"Madonna."

"Well, she's got that cute British husband of hers and these really buff arms, plus Rupert Everett is like her best friend, and you can't really beat that."

"Rupert Everett is better than me?"

"He's better than everyone except you, Sookie."

"That's what I thought. You know, if I were Madonna I think I'd drop the faux accent and the whole dressing like a geisha thing. That's a little weird."

"She's rich and famous, she can dress however she wants."

"Unless Joan Rivers is there."

"Screw Joan Rivers. If I were Madonna I'd beat her up."

"Like you said, she's got the muscle," Sookie smiles.

"Damn right. Though I don't think beating up Joan Rivers would really be that hard. She's tough and wiry, but I think she's all bark and no bite. She'd snap like a twig, or maybe bend like beef jerky."

"Are you two discussing assault and battery over here?" Lane suddenly chimes in, catching the last snippet of their conversation.

"Shhhhh...you didn't hear a thing. Do yourself a favor and erase it from your memory, young one," Lorelai tells her, reaching out and touching Lane's forehead as if stealing her thoughts. "There's been no talk of violence here tonight and Joan Rivers is in no danger whatsoever."

"If anyone asks, I have no recollection of any such discussion. This never happened," Lane nods.

"Good girl," Lorelai grins. Lane's gaze moves past Lorelai and she points at something, or rather, someone.

"Oh, here comes Luke," she says, and Lorelai immediately tenses. Rory looks to her mother, knowing she's panicking, and motions for her to calm down. Luke sits down without a word next to Lorelai, staring straight ahead as if he's purposely trying not to look at her.

"Hi." He mumbles.

"Hi." Lorelai replies shortly.

Silence.

"Anybody want something for dessert?" Rory asks a little too loudly, fumbling to grab something dessert-like. "I think I need something to top off this evening of complete gluttony." She picks up a pan of brownies. "Anyone?"

"I'll take one," Dean replies, taking one as Rory offers him the plate. Lane partakes as well.

"These are amazing, Sookie. You make the best brownies in the world," Lane remarks and Sookie giggles.

"I do, don't I?"

"Way to be modest, Sookie," Lorelai mutters.

"Oh, modesty is overrated," Sookie guffaws, waving her hand. "It's an old family recipe, and years and years of molding it to perfection have earned me the right to brag."

"Brag away, sister," Rory says.

"Yeah, brag," Lorelai murmurs off-handedly, not really in tune with the conversation. Dean tugs gently on some strands of Rory's hair and gestures for her to lean in toward him.

"What's wrong with your mom?" Dean whispers, glancing at Lorelai, who is in turn glancing at Luke. Luke is staring off into space, rigid and stoic. "And Luke? He looks even more unhappy than usual."

"I can't talk about it here. I'll tell you later," she whispers back, smiling as she says it so her mom won't suspect they're discussing her and Luke. Glancing up at the sky, Lane lets out a groan.

"It's getting really cloudy. I thought it wasn't supposed to rain. My mother checked every single weather report she could find before letting me come tonight."

"It won't rain. It's just a little overcast. A couple of clouds won't hurt the fireworks," Rory replies, not worried.

"But water will," Dean points out, holding his hand out, palm up. "I just felt a couple of drops."

"I think it's psychological," Rory theorizes. "People always feel raindrops when people suggest it."

"I felt them too," Sookie shrieks, hurriedly lunging to cover all of her leftover food. Everyone chuckles at her, except Lorelai and Luke. Luke just looks away as if anxious to escape and Lorelai is fidgeting nervously, alternately tugging on the edge of her shirt and changing her seating position.

"Would you stop moving?" Luke's outburst seems to come from nowhere and everyone looks at him. in surprise. "You're as bad as a two year old, you can't even sit still." Lorelai glares at him.

"I'll move however and whenever I please, thank you."

"We might want to move entirely out of the park," Lane suggests as it becomes evident that the raindrops are not figments of anyone's imagination. "If it starts to pour, we're going to get soaked." She gestures up at the sky, pointing out that they are in the complete open with no trees nearby to protect them from the rain. Sookie starts to pack up what's left of the picnic, swatting away Rory's hands as she tries to help.

"I have a system, it works faster if you just let me do it," Sookie informs her. "Here, why don't you fold up the blanket grab that cooler over there and head for the car. Lorelai, keys?" The sky opens up at that moment and almost everyone in the park jumps up from their seats, quickly packing up, pulling out umbrellas or dashing for the nearest shelter. Luke doesn't even react at first, not caring. He slowly stands, rolling his eyes as people run around acting like the rain is deadly.

"I sincerely doubt that a little rain is going to kill anyone," Luke grunts, picking up one of the three coolers that Sookie had just finished packing up. "I don't think anyone is going to melt."

"Lorelai, give the kids the keys so they can get to the van. They're getting soaked to the bone," Sookie tugs on Lorelai's sleeve, and Lorelai looks at her as if she's startled.

"Keys...right. Keys are good..." She pats her pockets, then opens up her purse. "Keys, keys, keys...keys!" She exclaims, finding them and holding them up triumphantly. She pulls her wet hair from her face, trying to keep it from clinging to her skin, and hands Rory the keys. "You guys run ahead, feel free to knock any person over who gets in your way as long as they're not a senior citizen or a small child."

"Thanks for the advice," Rory kisses her mother on the cheek. Dean picks up one of Sookie's bags and Rory grabs the blanket, while Lane grabs the small cooler. "I'll start up the van and start packing everything up into the trunk."

"Excellent plan," Lorelai says. "We'll be right behind you." Rory, Dean and Lane join the massive stream of people heading for the safety of their cars.

"Okay, I think that's all of it," Sookie stands up, finding it hard to move as her water-logged skirt hinders her legs. "Man, this rain is crazy, I totally didn't see it coming! You guys ready to get out of here?"

"Well, I'm already soaked, we might as well take our time getting out of here," Luke grumbles, watching the frantic paces at which some of the fellow park visitors were making toward the exit. "It's not like more water is going to hurt us now."

"Good thing that you say that, cause I want to talk to you for a second," Lorelai responds. "Sookie, could you go to the car and tell Rory that Luke and I will be there in a minute?" Sookie gives her best friend a strange, inquisitive look but agrees. Lorelai turns to Luke, water streaming down her face and the ground underneath her feet quickly turning to mud.

"Lorelai, do we really have to talk about this right now?"

"Yes, yes we do."

"It's raining."

"Didn't bother you a second ago."

"You're the one who said you wanted to wait until later to talk about it."

"This is later. And stop referring to it as 'it'. You kissed me, Luke. Kissed me."

"I am aware of that fact," Luke states blandly. A roll of thunder echoes through the air and Lorelai jumps slightly, but she doesn't let it distract her.

"Okay, so...why did you kiss me?"

"Why? What kind of question is that?"

"A question I need an answer to." Lightning flashes across the rapidly darkening sky and Luke grabs Lorelai's arm, ushering her in the general direction of the van.

"You know the answer already."

"I need to hear you say it to believe it."

Someone brushes between them, tearing Luke's hand from Lorelai's arm and their conversation is halted as the crowd hurries them along. Lorelai loses sight of Luke within a few seconds and doesn't see him again until she reaches the van. A few moments after she climbs in, Luke opens the passenger side door and sits down.

"Michel is going to absolutely kill me for ruining the upholstery," Lorelai mumbles, surveying the mess. "I can just hear his snotty voice now. He's probably sitting at home practicing his sneer as we speak. Maybe even in a full length mirror so he can do a full body sneer."

"A body sneer?" Dean asks, laughing.

"Yes."

"Trust me, somehow Michel manages to make his whole system of body language sneer all at once," Sookie claims. "You just want to punch that uppity nose of his."

"Well if he gets on my case about this I just might," Lorelai snorts. Sookie is confused.

"Just might what?"

"Punch him," Lorelai says flatly, annoyed.

"Oh. Yeah, I want to punch Michel sometimes too. But I don't," Sookie replies and Lorelai rolls her eyes at her, unable to stop herself.

"It amazes me that you manage to function sometimes, Sookie."

"Mom, there's a break in the traffic," Rory interjects, looking in both directions out of her window. "Pull out fast and we might be able to get out of here."

Lorelai hits the gas and screeches out of her parking spot, sending everyone in the car hurling to one side.

"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly, switching on her headlights and windshield wipers and falling into pace with the slow traffic ahead.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Rory opens up her bedroom door, rubbing her sleep-filled eyes.

"Sorry, hon, I really didn't mean to wake you up," Lorelai says apologetically, walking over to her daughter and smoothing her hair.

"You didn't wake me up. I've been up," Rory squints as her eyes adjust to the light in the kitchen. Lorelai picks up the plate of leftover cookies in one hand and takes Rory's in the other, leading the still half-asleep Rory toward the living room.

"That's a white lie if I ever heard one," Lorelai chuckles lightly, plopping down on the couch with an exhausted sigh. Kicking off her slippers, she tucks her feet under her and pats the spot next to her. Rory sits down, taking a cookie. "But thank you for trying. One of the many reasons I love you."

"What are the other reasons?"

"You buy good shampoo and do my laundry, of course," Lorelai states as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "That and you don't snore. My last daughter used to snore. But I got rid of her, so that took care of that problem."

"I seriously hope I never get a cold and develop an annoying sleeping habit, because being cast out on the street is not something I want to happen at this juncture of my life. It would definitely derail my plans for Harvard."

"I'll grant you leniency. You've been a much better kid than that other one. Bertha, or whoever she was. You're much more fun."

"Good to know," Rory leans back against the pillows, nibbling on the edge of her chocolate chip cookie. "So...I'm assuming this late night, or rather early morning, cookie bonanza is a direct result of some smooching which took place earlier this evening?"

"Don't call it smooching," Lorelai retorts. "It sounds like a word they'd use on Sesame Street or something. Or even worse, it kind of reminds me of mooching and that word just has a bad connotation whereas smooching is generally considered a good thing. It screws up the immediate reaction to the concept cause it registers as bad thing, but kissing is a good thing."

"You've decided that Luke kissing you is a good thing?" Rory asks, excitement creeping into her tone.

"I said generally a good thing."

"So...not good." Lorelai eyes her daughter suspiciously.

"Why...? Do you want it to be a good thing?" She inquires, raising her eyebrows and setting her cookie down, staring at Rory questioningly. Rory shrugs, looking away and picking some lint off of her loose red t-shirt.

"It's not like it's a surprise that Luke and you...I mean, I've thought about it before."

"Oh, you have?"

"Yes, I have," Rory replies, almost embarrassed. "I know you've thought about it too."

"Have not."

"Liar, and you know it."

"Shush. Just tell me about what you're thinking and stop telling me what I'm thinking."

"Sometimes I think it would be really great if you dated Luke, because you know...I could really see you making it last with him."

"There's an inherent but built right into that sentence."

"But then again, whenever something gets serious you tend to run away from it, and I wouldn't want to lose Luke from our lives. That would be terrible," Rory tells Lorelai honestly. "But I see how he looks at you, and sometimes I think you could feel the exact same way and if you'd only admit it..."

"Don't stop now, I'm interested in hearing this."

"You'd never run away from Luke and even if you tried, he wouldn't let you. He'd call you on it, tell you that you were being a stupid fool and you'd live happily ever after."

"That's exactly how I envisioned my love life...Luke calling me a stupid fool."

"You know what I meant, stop being difficult," Rory threatens, giving her mother a warning look which ends much too quickly when a smile breaks through.

"Come on! Luke...standing behind the counter, denying me coffee and telling me that I'm an idiot...what more could a girl want?"

"I think that's exactly what you want," Rory states and Lorelai frowns, leaning against the arm of the couch and holding her cookie up in front of her face. She inspects it for a few moments as she pouts. "Is your cookie really that interesting?"

"Yes, yes it is. This chocolate chip looks faintly like Al Roker."

"Really? Let me see," Rory leans over then scrunches up her nose. "I don't see the resemblance."

"You don't? See...here's the nose...and the big bald forehead..."

"Not seeing it."

"You just don't want to see it," Lorelai snorts then takes a bite. "I just ate Al Roker. How strange does that sound."

"If you come across a chip that looks like Elvis, save it. I'm sure the National Enquirer would pay good money for it."

"I'll be on the look-out. I could buy myself a great car like Tristan's." Lorelai pretends like she is surprised by her own mention of Tristan. "Speaking of Tristan..."

"That was subtle."

"I am nothing if not subtle, Rory Gilmore," Lorelai grins. "So what cataclysmic happening occurred between the two of you today?"

"Oh, the usual. Opened the conversation with some awkward banter laced with bitterness and anger, made a slight detour into the land of actual decency before we crashed into the big brick wall which would be an all out fight which ended in the both of us stalking off in different directions."

"Very dramatic of you. You should do those What is Drama commercials for TNT. Then with that money you can buy me a car like Tristan's," Lorelai replies, licking one of her fingers from some melted chocolate. "What did you two fight about?"

"I don't even know. He was just being so...I don't know. He was making me crazy. Every time I see him he treats me in a different way and I'd finally had it. So I exploded at him and asked him why he's so inconsistent-"

"You did not say inconsistent."

"No, I didn't," Rory groans. "But that was the general idea. I told him he made me really angry and he said I do the same thing to him! He says that the only reason he varies in how he treats me if because I run hot and cold. He apparently doesn't know what to expect so instead of figuring it out he just opts for being a jerk. Then I told him there was no way we could ever be friends and he agreed."

"Honey, I think you need an objective third party to observe here. Especially since both of you are making the exact same complaint about each other."

"What's your third party observation, then? And don't say I need to be Tristan's friend." Rory stops her mother as she opens up her mouth to say exactly that.

"Okay...how about...I think that I should look up Tristan's phone number in the Chilton directory and you should call him?" Rory glares at Lorelai. "How about...I look up the number, give it to you, and then you can choose whether or not to make use of it?" She doesn't stop glaring. "Or I could just call him, invite him over and force the two of you to sit in the living room until you're better friends than Laverne and Shirley."

"Never going to happen."

"Okay, so not Laverne and Shirley. Mary Tyler Moore and Rhoda?"

"Not funny."

"Kevin and Paul from The Wonder Years?"

"Even more not funny."

"Oh come on! You can be Kevin."

"Aren't I lucky."

"Oh! What was I thinking? Forget Paul! You can be Kevin and Winnie!"

"Am I still Kevin? Because picturing Tristan as Winnie Cooper is more than a little strange," Rory replies dully.

"I think it'd be amusing. He might look good in a tweed skirt."

"Need I remind you that I climbed out of bed at two o'clock in the morning to talk with you about Luke without so much as a complaint?"

"Well, you're complaining now, aren't you, so there goes that defense," Lorelai shoots back.

"I could've just stayed in the safety of my bedroom when I heard you rummaging around in the cupboards, but I didn't. I emerged from my slumber to aid you in your time of need."

"See, that was your first mistake."

"Now I know better than to ever do it again." Rory sighs, standing up. "I always learn from my mistakes."

"Not always. You ran through the kitchen once when you were four and tripped over the leg of the table and fell flat on your face, and then you did it again a few days later."

"I did not."

"I think you thought it was fun."

"Flying through the air and then sliding across linoleum is my idea of a good time."

"You get that from Grandma."

"Dare I ask you to explain that one?"

"Well, this dates back to my own childhood. I thought it would be fun to do the slip and slide inside the house. My mother did not, but when she came into the room and discovered my exploits, she found herself partaking in the events. Came around the corner and splat. I got in serious trouble for it, but I wouldn't exchange the sight of your grandmother slipping and sliding through our pristine kitchen for anything in the world."

"I can't even imagine how angry she must have been."

"Fifteen different shades of purple."

"You should've taken pictures."

"Too young to think so far ahead. Next time."

Rory leans down and hugs her mother good-night, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm going to head back to my room and do that wonderful thing that we call sleeping."

"Good idea. I'm going to watch the History Channel and bore myself to sleep."

"Oh come on, the History Channel is the best."

"I don't remember dropping you on your head as an infant but I think I must've," Lorelai teases, cocking her head to the side, acting like she's trying to recall any possible incidents. Rory just giggles and heads toward her bedroom. "Hey, Ror?"

"Yeah Mom?" Rory turns around expectantly.

"Thank you for waking up."

"I don't mind," she replies sweetly, then yawns. "Don't stay up too late. You can worry about Luke in the morning just as well as you can at two a.m."

"I'll try to get some sleep, I promise. Night, honey."

"Night," Rory mumbles sleepily, already getting drowsy just at the thought of her comfortable bed. Lorelai smiles gently as Rory shuts her door and she can hear Rory climbing back into bed and settling back in. Picking up the remote control, she turns on the television and snuggles back into the couch.

"Modern Marvels, goody. This will put me to sleep in no time," Lorelai says to herself out loud, blinking once like she's already having a hard time keeping her eyes open.

* * *

In her bedroom, Rory can hear her mother turn on the t.v. The sound is familiar and comforting, and Rory feels incredibly happy just knowing her mom is sitting out there, boring herself to tears. Their late night chats always made Rory glad that Lorelai was her mother and no one else's.

Sitting up, Rory climbs out of bed slowly and pads over to her bookshelf. She bends down and takes a good-size book off of the bottom shelf, one that looks like a thinner version of a telephone book. Walking over to her desk, she turns on her desk light and sets the book down, opening it up and fingering toward the D's.

Taking out a piece of paper and a pen from her drawer, Rory writes down a phone number and then closes the book. She stares at the number for a moment, still debating whether or not to crumple it up and throw it out or to keep it.

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thanks all for your very kind words. Please keep them coming. I love reading your reviews.


	7. New Perspectives

_Chapter Seven: New Perspectives_

"So?" Lorelai looks at her daughter expectantly as Rory walks out of her bedroom, cordless phone in hand. Rory appears to be dumbfounded. "Is this a positive gaping fish impression, like he's just been surprised by a smorgasbord of ooey-gooey worms, or is this a negative gaping fish impression, as if he just swallowed a hook and is going to die a horrible death momentarily?"

"You couldn't have just asked me how it went?" Rory asks, putting the phone back in the charger and tossing a plaintive look at her mother. Lorelai shrugs.

"That was implied in the 'So?' but you were too stunned at the moment to fully process it, so I felt the need to elaborate," Lorelai smiles as Rory sits down across from her at the kitchen table. She slides Rory a mug of coffee across the table top. "Take a hit and then dish every sordid detail."

Rory takes a purposefully elongated sip of her coffee and Lorelai taps her fingers against the table impatiently. After Lorelai's second sigh of frustration, Rory sets down her mug with a satisfied grin.

"Exactly where did you learn to chug like that? Because let me tell you, I'm now quite worried to send you to college where chugging alcohol is considered a sport. You'll do it once just to prove to some boy that you can beat him, your unquenchable feminist spirit getting the better of you, and next thing I know you'll be sitting on a corner somewhere dressed in paper bags and asking people for spare change so you can buy a bottle of gin or whiskey from the corner liquor store and mumbling about how you were once training to be a ballerina."

"Yeah, you're probably right, Mom. I should just chuck my plans for Harvard right now." She gets up and walks to the sink, putting her now empty mug down and filling it with water. She sits back down and waits for her mother to predictably push the conversation back in the direction it was originally intended to go.

"Are you going to tell me about your little chat with Tristan or am I going to have to beg?" Lorelai inquires. "Please don't make me beg."

"I don't know...begging sounds incredibly entertaining."

"Please, please, Rory," Lorelai whimpers. "I just want to know what happened. You calling Tristan is a momentous step forward in your burgeoning friendship."

"I think Mr. Medina rubbed off on you," Rory remarks. "Your vocabulary has undergone an extensive expansion."

"Well, too bad none of those words have come in handy when I have seen Luke over the past week," she quips back and quickly continues, not wanting their talk to be diverted from Rory's life to her life. "But speaking of words, which ones were just used in your talk with Ken doll?"

"Words like, hello, how are you, good, things like that. Standard material really. Nothing groundbreaking."

"Stop being the smartass I trained you to be for a moment, darling."

"I'm sorry," Rory chirps. "It's ingrained into my very being. I just can't help it."

"Besides greetings, what else did you say to him, and what amount of weirdness was there to it?"

"Not that much weirdness, really. He seemed surprised at first, which was kind of funny because I temporarily knocked him from his ability to be suave and charming. I could swear he almost stuttered once or twice."

"Impressive."

"I know. I just talked to him about school and stuff. He bought a new CD yesterday so we talked about that. Told him about the movie Dean and I went to see last night, etcetera, etcetera. Basic plot points of any teenage conversation. I got his e-mail address and IM name so we could talk online."

"Wow, that's huge. You guys are totally, like, best friends now," Lorelai twirls her hair and pretends to be chewing gum loudly. "But don't let him like, borrow your clothes, cause I lent him my pink sweater one time, and like, I never got it back."

"We're far from being best friends, Mom. But I'm glad I called, even if it took me a whole week to work up the courage to do it. I feel better. After what happened on the Fourth of July, I really thought the odds of Tristan and I partaking in any events of a friendly nature were very slim, but the conversation we just had was very civil, bordering on moderately enjoyable. There's about a 70 chance that by September we could get through a whole week without arguing with one another."

"It's really amusing how you can talk about your friendship with Tristan like it's a weather report."

"Maybe I should be a meteorologist."

"Why go through all that school when you could just be a weathergirl? They just have to report it, they don't have to know what it means. Like Hilary on The Fresh Prince."

"I wouldn't know. You're the one who watched that show."

"Hey! It was a good show. I still know the theme song. You wanna hear it?"

"Not really."

"In West Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground on which I spent most of my days-"

"I believe that you know it, you don't have to prove it, Mom," Rory covers her ears and Lorelai stops.

"It's almost as fun to sing as the theme song from Hey, Dude. It's a little wild, and a little strange, to make your home out on the range...so start your horse and come along, cause you can't get a ride if you can't hold on," Lorelai jumps up and starts bouncing around, twirling her arm above her head like a lasso. "Singin, Yip-ee-ki-yay-ay, Yip-ee-ki-yay-what? Like the cowboys say, sing it again now..." Rory gives her mother a look and simply turns and walks into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Lorelai stops singing and pouts. "You are no fun! You used to like that show! You had a crush on Ted!" She is met with silence. "Fine, I'll stop singing." Rory's door opens cautiously.

"You're really going to stop?"

"Yes, if I have to," Lorelai replies, still pouting. Rory comes back into the kitchen slowly, eyeing her mother like she's a time bomb about to explode.

"Are you sure?"

"I promise."

"Okay." Rory sits back down again, shooting Lorelai a warning look as she begins to hum. "Want to go to Luke's for lunch?" Rory suggests, knowing that'll stop Lorelai's humming immediately. It does, and she looks away, pretending to open up the fridge and look for food.

"Well...I thought we could eat the leftover Chinese we have in here," Lorelai replies, lifting a couple containers up.

"Mom, that is from five days ago."

"So?"

"Mom."

"It's still good!" She exclaims, opening one container up and sniffing it. "It smells fine- no, okay, that smells really bad." Rory gives her an I told you so smile as Lorelai tosses the containers into the garbage. "Okay, so no Chinese. We have plenty of other food here. We go to Luke's almost every single day. We should make our own meals for a change."

"Correction, we used to go to Luke's almost every single day. We haven't been there in six days now."

"Your point?"

"I think you're avoiding Luke."

"I am not," Lorelai scoffs, turning away. "I just haven't seen him that much. I've been busy. If I were avoiding Luke, I'd be..."

"Refusing to go to the diner to eat, skipping the town meeting, calling the market and making sure he's not there before going?"

"Dean told you?" Rory nods. "Why, the little rat. That was supposed to be confidential."

"Well, he happened to let it slip about doing a Luke Scan yesterday and I forced him to spill the beans."

"You're a regular J. Edgar Hoover, aren't you."

"And don't think I don't know about the time at work when Luke actually called to talk to you - which at any other time would've been a day to mark down on the calendar - and you told Michel to tell him that you were outside changing the pool filters."

"Now how did you know about that?"

"I have my ways. And judging from the fact that the Inn doesn't even have a pool and if it did, you wouldn't be the one changing the filters, I think it's pretty fair to say that Luke knew it was all a cover."

"I was under pressure for a lie and that's all I could come up with. Michel wasn't helping matters much since he was just standing there, snickering that snooty French snicker of his."

"So you're admitting that you're avoiding Luke."

Lorelai pauses, shifting from foot to foot as she contemplates an answer.

"I'm not admitting anything."

"Mom, a Luke Scan?"

"All right, so maybe I am avoiding him! So what?" She cries out, throwing her arms up in defeat. "I don't know what else to do."

"You could talk to him. I know it's a novel idea, but it has worked in the past."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Rory demands and Lorelai sits down, letting out a heavy sigh and propping her chin up with her hands.

"Because he's going to ask me what I'm feeling about the whole kiss thing and I don't have an answer yet."

"But I think you do have an answer." Rory looks her mother squarely in the eyes.

"When did you get so damn persistent?"

"Well, I learned from your example. Perhaps if you had laid off about the whole Tristan issue, I wouldn't be sitting here right now, so stubbornly set against your drastic avoidance measures. See, my theory is that you liked Luke kissing you and you're afraid that if you see him, you're likely to kiss him again."

"So not true," Lorelai guffaws as if it is the most insane thing she's ever heard. "Believe you me, I am not just sitting around and replaying the kiss in my mind like it was the be all and end all of all kisses I've ever received."

"I said nothing about you daydreaming," Rory says with a knowing smirk.

"Well..." Lorelai stammers for a response. "It was inferred."

"That's all you can come up with for your defense?"

"Perhaps you would like me to call Tristan and invite him over to our house for dinner? We could invite Dean too and the two of them could glare at one another over the box of pizza. Doesn't that sound like fun? I'm sure that would help build up yours and Tristan's tentative friendship and I'm positive it would work wonders with Dean. In fact..." Lorelai walks to the phone, picking it up and turning it on. "I think I'll call them both right now."

"Good. I'll walk down to the diner and invite Luke while you do that." Rory stands up and calls her bluff, heading for the front door. Lorelai shuts off the phone with a frown, slamming it back down.

"Go to your room," Lorelai points to Rory's open bedroom door. "You're annoying me."

"That just proves my point. I only annoy you when you know I'm right and you don't want me to be right."

"That is not true. You also annoy me when you say you don't want french fries and then you eat all of mine."

"You know I'm right," Rory states, ignoring Lorelai's comment about the french fries. She goes to the foyer, picks up Lorelai's bag and keys and shoves them into her mother's hands. "Now go." Rory pushes Lorelai toward the front door.

"You're not coming?"

"I already ate."

"Then why did you suggest Luke's?" Lorelai exclaims in exasperation. Rory just shrugs with a sly smile. "I'm not going if you're not going."

"Mom, you really want me standing right beside you when you and Luke talk about him kissing you? Somehow I don't think that giving me a front row seat to the trials and tribulations of your love life is the best idea. Not to mention the fact that it'd be thoroughly embarrassing, awkward and all together strange."

"You and your logic. A pox on both your houses."

"Romeo and Juliet. Already in the right frame of mind for romance, I see."

"Oh, please. Juliet was an insipid fool and if Romeo were a guy in today's world, he's probably have a little black book, a pager, and two other girls on the side. I mean, he jumped right from Rosaline or whoever to Juliet without so much of a thought. That's not a good sign."

"That's only because he thought he loved Rosaline and then he saw Juliet and he finally knew what love truly was."

"That's a really great line, I bet it took him forever to come up with that one. Probably sidled up to her at the bar, leaned over with a smarmy grin and said-"

"You know what? You should save your re-interpretation for a time when you can write it down and sell it to a publisher as a piece of jaded satire. Right now, you have more important things to do." Rory points out toward the Jeep. "Go."

"Oh, Ma, do I have to?"

"Yes."

Lorelai frowns and stomps off toward the car like a two year old throwing a tantrum. Rory smiles faintly at her mother's antics before turning and going back inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. Sighing at the now peaceful silence that had descended, Rory walks to her bedroom, flipping on her IMAC laptop computer. Plopping down in her comfortable desk chair, she turns on her cd player as she's waiting to connect to the internet. Aimee Mann's soulful voice fills the air, the first song from the Magnolia soundtrack reminding Rory of the time she and her mother went to see it and Lorelai went beserk with hatred for it.

AOL welcomes her with its annoying computerized voice and tells Rory that she has mail. She clicks on the mailbox and is about to open her first piece of mail, which is something from school, when an instant message box pops up.

ANY1 EVERY1: Hey there.

A small smile lights across Rory's face without her even thinking about it.

MuffinMaverick: I thought you said you were rarely ever online! Yet two seconds after I talk to you...

ANY1 EVERY1: Well, it's been a little more than two seconds, and I had to check my e-mail. I haven't checked it in two days and I have about 50 messages here.

MuffinMaverick: Aren't you just the social butterfly.

ANY1 EVERY1: No need to be sarcastic, Mary. You don't have to get jealous. I can send you some mail if you don't have any. The last thing I need is mail envy.

MuffinMaverick: Bad pun.

ANY1 EVERY1: What can I say, I'm gifted.

MuffinMaverick: Delusional, is more like it.

ANY1 EVERY1: I think you may be even more caustic online than you are in person. You wound me deeply, Rory.

ANY1 EVERY1: The pain of it all is so searing my eyes are filling to the brim.

ANY1 EVERY1: I can't see the computer screen through all of these tears.

MuffinMaverick: I don't think I'm capable of inflicting any kind of harm on that massive ego of yours. I'd need a sledgehammer, maybe even a jackhammer.

ANY1 EVERY1: I think you underestimate your power.

Rory pauses for a moment in her typing at this, wondering what Tristan meant by that. It was so hard to interpret statements when writing online, without the help of visuals such as Tristan's trademark smirk or easy laugh.

MuffinMaverick: Oh, I never underestimate my power. She-Ra has nothing on me, and Xena trembles in my presence.

ANY1 EVERY1: She-ra?

MuffinMaverick: Sister to He-Man?

ANY1 EVERY1: Oh.

MuffinMaverick: It's very sad that you don't know who She-Ra is. I'm sure that ties directly into your male chauvanistic tendencies, but I'll save that dissertation for another time.

ANY1 EVERY1: Do your fingers ever get tired from writing such big words?

MuffinMaverick: I could use shorter ones, but that's not much fun. A phrase like stupid idiot does not carry the same weight as unparalleled imbecile.

ANY1 EVERY1: I hardly think I'm an imbecile for not being up on my She-Ra. I grew up on Scooby Doo, Thundercats, Voltron...not She-Ra. Sorry to disappoint.

MuffinMaverick: Oo, Thundercats! I love that show!

ANY1 EVERY1: Well, color me surprised.

ANY1 EVERY1: I never would've thought.

MuffinMaverick: I never would've thought you thought either.

ANY1 EVERY1: Ha...ha. Your wit astounds me.

MuffinMaverick: You walked right into that one. It was just too easy.

ANY1 EVERY1: I wouldn't think you would stoop so low as to take pot shots at a friend.

MuffinMaverick: Oh forgive me, mighty Tristan. I have crossed the line.

Rory waits for him to reply, but after a few moments, her screen is still not moving.

MuffinMaverick: Please don't pretend like you're offended because we both know that you're not.

ANY1 EVERY1: My computer just froze up for a second.

ANY1 EVERY1: I think something is wrong with this stupid comp.

MuffinMaverick: Sue the company.

ANY1 EVERY1: Maybe I will.

ANY1 EVERY1: So, what's with the screen name?

MuffinMaverick: What do you mean?

ANY1 EVERY1: MuffinMaverick? What's the significance?

MuffinMaverick: Oh, it's a long story. It involves my mother using baked goods as baseballs, my neighbor's cat, three broken lamps and one broken window, a celebratory home run dance, my mother's love of monkeys, a large amount of superglue …

MuffinMaverick: and Luke calling 911 as a result of the said neighbor's cat running up a tree because of said celebratory/scary dance and then getting stuck there because it had gotten said superglue on its paw. I won't even get into how it walked through superglue.

ANY1 EVERY1: Life at your house sounds fun

MuffinMaverick: We have three rings and a lion tamer. the bicycle riding elephants make special appearances on wednesdays

MuffinMaverick: What does yours mean?

ANY1 EVERY1: My screen name?

MuffinMaverick: Yes, that would be what I was asking.

ANY1 EVERY1: "anyone lived in a pretty how town..."

MuffinMaverick: (with up so floating many bells down)

MuffinMaverick: spring summer autumn winter

MuffinMaverick: he sang his didn't and danced his did

ANY1 EVERY1: I take it you know the poem?

MuffinMaverick: That I do. E.E. Cummings is amazing

ANY1 EVERY1: Yes, yes he is.

MuffinMaverick: But isn't it anyone and noone, and then everyones and someones?

ANY1 EVERY1: Yeah well, I'm an anyone who has found nothing but everyones.

MuffinMaverick: I dont believe that.

ANY1 EVERY1: well, we can't all be as endlessly optimistic as you are

ANY1 EVERY1: What are you listening to?

Rory takes the hint, the abrupt change in the direction of the conversation clearly indicating that Tristan didn't want to discuss it anymore.

MuffinMaverick: How do you know I'm listening to something::looks around, paranoid::

ANY1 EVERY1: I set up surveillance cameras in your room and there are bugs everywhere.

MuffinMaverick: Oh, well as long as I'm aware. But seriously, what makes you think I'm listening to something?

ANY1 EVERY1: You're a music freak, Rory you're always listening to something.

MuffinMaverick: Touché

MuffinMaverick: I'm listening to Aimee Mann

ANY1 EVERY1: Cool.

MuffinMaverick: You have no idea who she is, do you?

ANY1 EVERY1: not a clue

MuffinMaverick: figured as much.

ANY1 EVERY1: i'm sure you'll enlighten me.

MuffinMaverick: I'm giving you the cd to listen to on the first day of school.

MuffinMaverick: Now, what are you listening to? And please don't say Blink182 or something like that.

ANY1 EVERY1: Sum41.

MuffinMaverick: A Blink182 knock-off! Tristan, you're killing me here.

ANY1 EVERY1: Glad to be of service.

MuffinMaverick: Even popping in one of your Oasis cds would be better than that.

ANY1 EVERY1: It really sucks that Paris isn't letting you write the music column

MuffinMaverick: Whose fault would that be?

ANY1 EVERY1: ouch.

MuffinMaverick: I speak the truth, sorry if it hurts.

MuffinMaverick: It doesn't matter though. I would've done something to make her hate me again anyway, it was only a matter of time.

ANY1 EVERY1: Still

MuffinMaverick: i know, it sucks

MuffinMaverick: but nothing can be done to change it now. i'm stuck writing about parking lots all year

ANY1 EVERY1: maybe it'll work out so you can earn one of the good parking spots through your extensive coverage of all developments in the asphalt department.

MuffinMaverick: would help if i had a car.

ANY1 EVERY1: maybe you'll het one.

ANY1 EVERY1: get one, sorry

MuffinMaverick: I wish.

ANY1 EVERY1: Did you get the e-mail from school today?

She feels almost sheepish, remembering she had intended to come online only to check her mail and then sign off. Her mailbox was still open and untouched behind the IM box. Rory clicks on the e-mail from and reads it quickly.

MuffinMaverick: The newspaper is holding a meeting in two weeks? Before school even starts?

ANY1 EVERY1: Paris is the editor, remember

MuffinMaverick: so this is why you brought the paper up

ANY1 EVERY1: strike that reverse it. our conversation reminded me of the e-mail

MuffinMaverick: you got one - are you on the staff?

ANY1 EVERY1: I'm supposed to be one of the sports writers.

MuffinMaverick: You? Sports?

ANY1 EVERY1: I'll have you know that I play soccer, tennis, and baseball. not for the school, obviously, but other places.

ANY1 EVERY1: and I lift weights, so I'm not the sports ignoramus you think I am

MuffinMaverick: I just never pictured you as the sports type, that's all.

ANY1 EVERY1: I really don't like them that much, even though I'm kind of good at them. I just play them to get away from the house. Though it certainly helps that it keeps me in shape and all that. Girls like that.

MuffinMaverick: Your modesty really overwhelms me.

ANY1 EVERY1: Just honest. I don't see the point in depracating yourself for things just because you're good at them. there's plenty of other things wrong that I don't need to make myself feel bad about the good stuff.

MuffinMaverick: I never thought of it that way.

MuffinMaverick: I guess that makes sense.

ANY1 EVERY1: I am a fountain of logic.

Another instant message box pops up on Rory's screen, startling her. She clicks Accept.

NARK: Hey Rory.

MuffinMaverick: You changed your screen name to Nark???

NARK: I figured I'd just give in and go with the flow.

MuffinMaverick: My mother has poisoned your soul.

NARK: What are you up to?

MuffinMaverick: Just meandering online.

Rory winces as she writes that last IM, purposely telling a half-truth. Her other IM box flashes, signalling that Tristan has sent her another message. Moving Dean's box over, she reads Tristan's words.

ANY1 EVERY1: I'm not looking forward to going back to school this year, are you?

MuffinMaverick: Everyone says junior year is the hardest.

ANY1 EVERY1: the homework load is going to be insane

MuffinMaverick: you never do your homework!

ANY1 EVERY1: not true. you just assume i don't because I never pay attention

MuffinMaverick: oh, my mistake. ::rolls eyes::

ANY1 EVERY1: i have an amazing ability to still hear what the teacher is saying and absorb it while letting my mind go somewhere else

MuffinMaverick: Wish i had that talent. my mind would be on a beach in maui all day long

ANY1 EVERY1: tell me about it. esp. during mrs. richardson's class

MuffinMaverick: omg yes! that woman was beyond wretched.

ANY1 EVERY1: why rory, that's the first time i've heard you say anything bad about someone

ANY1 EVERY1: besides me, of course

MuffinMaverick: of course

MuffinMaverick: brb, I'm gonna go get some coffee. it's been forty-five minutes since the last hit

ANY1 EVERY1: k

Getting up, Rory dashes into the kitchen, feeling that for some reason she wants to get back to her conversation with Tristan as quickly as she can.

* * *

"Lorelai..." Luke stares at her as she enters the diner, startled to see her standing there. She smiles faintly as he continues pouring coffee into Kirk's cup long after it is full.

"Luke, watch what you're doing!" Kirk exclaims, jumping up as the hot liquid spreads across the counter. "That's the second time in two months! I don't know why they let someone like you be in charge of this whole place! You can't even handle a simple task like pouring coffee, for god's sake!"

"Yeah, Luke, didn't you take the training class?" Lorelai asks, more poking fun at Kirk than at Luke. "Everyone knows that customers like him get a pie in the face, not coffee in the lap."

"I must've missed that lesson," Luke half-smiles and Kirk glares at them both.

"I'm the one who has been scalded, through no fault of my own, and you sit here and mock me. Satan has a place reserved in hell for you both, I hope you know that."

"Do I know it? I'm already in negoation with our dear Prince of Darkness for the luxury suite overlooking the fiery pit of demons. He's a tough, shrewd businessman, but I think I'm wearing him down," Lorelai laughs. Kirk throws the wet napkin he's holding down onto the counter with a huffy sigh, and after glaring at them once again, storms out of the diner. Lorelai looks at Luke, suddenly realizing that they're alone in the diner together. "Kirk certainly is..."

"Obnoxious, is what he is," Luke grunts and Lorelai nods overemphatically.

"With a capital O, that one."

"Yep."

"So..."

"How are you doing? I mean..."

"I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have scared Kirk away. I was actually able to talk to you when he was in here."

"Oh."

"The words aren't coming together right now," Lorelai fidgets nervously. "I'm like chasing them around in my brain, trying to grab them, but...it's like when you push a magnet around the table and it always stays that same distance away from the one in your hand and...yeah, you just can't get it. Unless you flip the magnets over of course, but if that was a possibility, I wouldn't be standing here rambling like this. And you most certainly wouldn't be staring at me like that." She points at Luke, who has been watching her throughout her diatribe of randomness.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you, Lorelai."

"Excuse me, what?" Lorelai looks at him, almost in shock.

"I shouldn't have done it. It was a momentary lapse in judgment, an impulse. It meant nothing." Luke stares down into the half-empty coffee pot still in his hand, not able to meet Lorelai's questioning gaze.

"What?" She exclaims, anger rising into her eyes. He could not be serious. "You can not stand there and tell me that it meant nothing, Luke. I have been wracking my brain over this for the past week. I've been losing sleep because of it! God, I've even been depriving myself of your coffee! And now you're saying that it didn't mean anything?" Luke doesn't reply, not able to make himself utter the lie once more. "Let's get one thing straight here, buddy, that kiss meant a whole lotta something. I haven't figured out exactly what the definition of that something is, but at least I can admit that, yeah, it was at least something. And you're going to stand there and act like it didn't? What's next, you saying that we should just forget it ever happened?"

"Well, maybe we should."

"Oh. my. god," Lorelai backs up from the counter, getting more pissed off with every passing second. "I can't believe you! Why would you do it if you didn't mean it? Do you have any idea the hell that this has put me through? I have been sitting at home, day in and day out, trying to figure out what I was feeling and what I was going to do about it, and what I would say, and now...urggghhh. You know what? You're a jerk. A big jerk." She stares at Luke for a moment as if trying to figure something out. Her eyes travel over his face slowly and he tries to remain completely expressionless. "No...wait. You're a big liar."

"What am I lying about?"

"An impulse, Luke? You're the least impulsive person I know. You would never just kiss me because you were suddenly seized with the feeling that you wanted to."

"How would you know?" Luke retorts, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. With every passing second, Lorelai was edging closer and closer to the truth. After she finds out the Luke has been in love with her for quite some time, one of two things could happen: one being that she would flip out, run away, and never speak to him again, and two being that she would pretend to be okay with this revelation, tell him she didn't feel the same way, and then attempt to continue their friendship while causing them both supreme embarrassment and more than their fair share of awkward moments. Neither option looks appealing.

"I just do. I know you. And that's not you," Lorelai replies simply. Luke is about to reply when Taylor Doose and Miss Patty enter the diner, ready to embark on their daily meal together in which they would squabble over the various issues in the town. Luke heads over toward them without so much as another look at Lorelai.

"Hello Miss Patty...Taylor."

"Hello, Luke," Taylor says, nodding in greeting. "And how are you today?"

"I'm wonderful," Luke says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Lorelai is still watching Luke, her fury building up and turning into supreme frustration.

"That's nice, dear," Miss Patty pats him on the shoulder, going past him to their normal table. "Could we start off with some coffee? I have a craving."

"Coffee, fine," Luke mutters. He turns around and finds Lorelai standing right behind him. "Oh, Jesus," he exclaims lowly, surprised. She crosses her arms over her chest and then looks at Miss Patty and then at Taylor.

"You guys didn't ask me how I am. I was sitting right over there and you didn't even say hi," Lorelai puts her hands on her hips, indignant. Taylor and Miss Patty exchange looks and decide to placate her.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't see you. How are you doing?" Miss Patty cooes with a large smile.

"How am I doing? Hmmm...let's see..." Lorelai pretends to ponder for a moment, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "Oh, yes, I remember." She grabs Luke's shoulders, pulls him to her in a long, passionate kiss. She pushes him away just as violently. "That's how I'm doing. And I'd like to say that kiss meant nothing even though it seemed like it was monumental. Let me reiterate for the record, in front of witnesses, that I felt absolutely zilch. Zero. Nada. You happy now, Luke? We're even. Go back and hide behind your coffee pot." She storms out, the door slamming closed behind her. He stares at the closed door of his diner for a long time after Lorelai has left, open-mouthed and stunned speechless.

Miss Patty and Taylor are both agape, still processing the huge occurrence that had just taken place in front of their very own eyes.

"Aren't you going to go after her?" Taylor suddenly exclaims, wondering why Luke is still standing there motionless. Luke turns to Taylor, shaken.

"What?"

"Go after her? Why aren't you going after her?" Miss Patty cries out, her hands flailing about. She wildly gestures to the door and Taylor shoves Luke toward it. Luke, finally regaining control of his ability to think and to speak, jumps away from Taylor's touch, avid.

"No, why the hell would I do that?" Not giving either of them a chance to raise their voices in outrage and dismay, Luke stalks off to the kitchen, his place of retreat. Taylor and Miss Patty stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. They're both thinking of storming back into the kitchen and pulling Luke out of there when he comes racing out all on his own, tossing the towel he was holding onto the counter. "Shut up, Doose or you're never eating here again," he threatens as he rushes past them and out the door.

Instantly Miss Patty and Taylor scramble for their cellular phones, pushing power and hurriedly dialing the first numbers that come to their minds.

"Hello, Andrew? Guess what just happened. You'll never guess."

"Jackson! Hello! I'm at Luke's, and I have some amazing news. Lorelai just kissed Luke and left. Luke's running after her."

"Yes, I know! It's huge!"

Within minutes telephones were ringing all throughout Stars Hollow, hurriedly passing on the latest gossip that the town's longest lasting should-be couple is getting a romantic yet frazzling jumpstart.

* * *

ANY1EVERY1: So, coffee all set?

MuffinMaverick: Oh yeah. I'm definitely getting that caffeine kick I so desperately needed.

ANY1EVERY1: I don't think I've ever met anyone who loves coffee as much as you and your mother do. Besides my Great Aunt Ida.

ANY1EVERY1: She was a wretched woman and had really bad hair.

MuffinMaverick: Thank you for the comparison.

ANY1EVERY1: You're welcome.

MuffinMaverick: What are you doing now?

MuffinMaverick: And don't say talking to me.

ANY1EVERY1: But that's what I am doing.

MuffinMaverick: You're not doing anything else?

MuffinMaverick: You can't multitask?

ANY1EVERY1: Well, I was on a tele-conference trying to negotiate a trade between the Flyers and the Sabres, but that ended a while ago.

MuffinMaverick: Smartass.

ANY1EVERY1: Am I the only person you swear at?

MuffinMaverick: Yea

ANY1EVERY1: I feel honored.

MuffinMaverick: Still haven't answered the original question

ANY1EVERY1: what are YOU doing besides talking to me?

Rory looks around the room, suddenly realizing that talking to him is in fact all that she is doing.

ANY1EVERY1: Taking a long time to answer there, mary.

MuffinMaverick: oh, shut up you

ANY1EVERY1: Tristan: 1 Rory: 0

MuffinMaverick: Nice to know you're keeping score

ANY1EVERY1: someone has to

ANY1EVERY1: what are you doing this weekend?

MuffinMaverick: I have no idea

MuffinMaverick: in the summer, i try not to think more than one day in advance

ANY1EVERY1: Mind breaking that rule for a moment?

MuffinMaverick: what's the incentive?

ANY1EVERY1: back to school blow-out at Dan McAllister's house on sat.

ANY1EVERY1: I thought maybe you could bring Lane

MuffinMaverick: Henry?

ANY1EVERY1: Yeah

MuffinMaverick: I will consult with her and see if she can finangle her mother into giving permission

ANY1EVERY1: is that a yes then?

MuffinMaverick: it's a we'll see

MuffinMaverick: a maybe, if you will

ANY1EVERY1: just gimme a call and let me know. i can come pick you guys up

MuffinMaverick: i don't know about that one. riding in cars with boys is equivalent to sex for mrs. kim

MuffinMaverick: it's very, very not allowed

ANY1EVERY1: we can just meet there

ANY1EVERY1: just think about it, everyone's gonna be there

MuffinMaverick: Can Dean come?

The long pause before Tristan replies gives Rory a time to stare at her own words for a moment. Something seemed off about that question.

ANY1EVERY1: yeah, dean can come

The front door opens and Lane calls Rory's name out loudly. Rory quickly types a "gotta go" to Tristan but doesn't have time for explanation, becomes Lane comes bursting straight into Rory's bedroom, shouting her name frantically.

"What's the matter, Lane?" Rory jumps up from her computer, shutting the lid and looking at her panicked friend. "What's wrong?"

"I've been trying...to call you...but the line was...busy!" Lane exclaims, out of breath. "I ran all the way over here as fast as I could."

"I was online. What happened? Are you okay?"

"I was in town and I heard...I couldn't believe it! Is your mom here? Did she come home? Or is she still out? Lorelai?" Lane runs back into the kitchen, shouting. Rory goes after her, grabbing her best friend's arm. Her panic is starting to rub off.

"She isn't home, Lane. What did you hear?" Rory demands, and Lane takes a deep breath, trying to calm down so she can get it out.

"Miss Patty and Taylor were in Luke's and..." She gasps for air.

"Lane, tell me!"

"Your mom totally kissed him! She kissed Luke! Like right in front of them!"

"What?"

"Just grabbed him and kissed him, and apparently she mega kissed him, not just the friendly peck on the cheek, you know?"

"What?"

"I know! Apparently she just...wow. Just wow. I can't believe it. Can you believe it?" Lane grabs Rory's hands, clutching them tightly and jumping up and down.

"I can't...I mean, I can, I just...yeah, wow. She kissed him? You're sure?"

"Everyone is saying so. It's all over town."

"My mom just left here twenty minutes ago."

"Rory."

"Right, right. Stars Hollow. Should know better than to question the rate at which gossip travels," Rory shakes her head.

"So, what do you think? Are you flipping out?"

"Am I? Um...no, I guess I'm not. I'm surprised, of course, but...I'm not that surprised."

"You're not?" Lane eyes her best friend suspiciously. "What are you not telling me? Did you know that Lorelai was going to kiss Luke?"

"I'm not psychic, Lane. It's just happened before, that's all. Except Luke kissed my mom."

"What?" Lane shrieks. "Luke kissed Lorelai and you didn't tell me?"

"It was my mom's personal business, I didn't feel right," Rory shrugs, obviously feeling very uncomfortable. Lane relents.

"Yeah, sorry. Totally shouldn't have jumped on your case about that. I'm just so excited. Adrenaline is rushing through my body like you wouldn't believe. I never thought that Luke and Lorelai would actually-"

"Did you hear what happened after she kissed him?"

"Oh, yeah. She ran out and then Luke went after her, I think. Though that was more vague. Do you think we should go look for her?"

"No," Rory says adamantly. "I'm sure Luke found her and if he didn't, something tells me my mom will want some time alone."

"Okay. I'm sure Luke found her and they're talking, perhaps even kissing, somewhere in the Stars Hollow vicinity."

"Hopefully not in sight of your mother or you'll never be allowed to come here again," Rory jokes, but that suddenly reminds her of Tristan's offer. "Oh, by the way...Tristan says there's a Chilton party this Saturday and that Henry's going to be there, so maybe if you can swing it...?"

"Tristan?" Lane barely hears the comment about Henry.

"I finally called him today and then we were just talking online. He mentioned the party, and he said that you should come."

"Tristan invited you to come to a party?"

"I'm only going if you're going to go. He didn't really ask me, per se. He just let me know that the party was going to be happening and that if I went, I'd most likely see him there."

"Ah ha."

"But the main point of him telling me was to relay the message from Henry that he wants you to come," Rory emphasizes, knowing exactly what Lane is getting at. "Tristan and I are friends now, you know. Or at least agreeing to try to be friends. He was clearly just trying to take the first step."

"I thought you took the first step by calling him."

"I amend. Second step."

"So he took the second step and he wants you to come to a party. Without Dean."

"He said Dean could come."

"You need Tristan's permission to bring Dean?"

"Lane! Are you trying to be impossible?"

"Maybe."

"Do you want to go to the party or not? Cause we don't have to go and you could just sit at home and dream about what it'd be like to be hanging out with Henry at that very moment. I don't have a problem with that at all."

"I think we should go."

"Fine," Rory sighs and sits down at the kitchen table in a huff. "It's people like you who are going to make being friends with Tristan very hard."

"Everyone's going to make being friends with Tristan hard, Rory," Lane points out. "That's why you were reluctant to do it, remember?" Rory nods, frowning. "But you decided that you shouldn't let all of that get in the way. And I promise from now on, I won't bother you about it. I'll be your safe haven in a world of madness."

"How very poetic of you."

"It does have a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

"That it does. Maybe you should embroider it onto a pillow or something."

"Or I could just get a name tag. Hello, my name is Lane Kim. A safe haven in a world of madness. I think people would be impressed."

"Oh, I'm sure they would."

"I really wish your mom would come home so we could find out what happened," Lane whines, finally getting sick of their banter and plopping down across from Rory at the table. "I'm practically dying in anticipation here."

"Not much I can do," Rory shrugs, folding her hands in front of her on the tabletop. Lane stands up again.

"I guess I'll just head home then. My mom is probably going to yell at me the second I walk in the door, no use in putting it off. I was supposed to be home like half an hour ago."

"Oops."

"It was worth it," Lane replies. "Luke and Lorelai kissing is more important than anything at this point."

"Anything? Lane, your priorities are seriously out of order."

"Hyperbole, Rory, hyperbole."

Rory nods in understanding as she walks Lane to the front door.

"I'll call you the second I find out what's going on," Rory promises as Lane walks down the front steps.

"You better," Lane points a finger at her friend in warning before hurrying off toward home. Rory laughs lightly and shuts the door, heading back toward her bedroom. She's two steps into the kitchen when the phone rings, breaking the complete silence and causing Rory to jump about three inches off the ground in surprise.

Glancing around, Rory pinpoints the location of the phone, surprised to find it where it's actually supposed to be, and rushes to pick it up before the machine comes on.

"Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Oh my god, Dean." Rory's eyes widen, suddenly remembering that she had been holding a conversation with him online. It had slipped her mind entirely. She realizes with a sense of dismay that while talking with Tristan, she had forgotten about Dean entirely. "I'm so sorry."

"I heard about your mom, did she come home?"

"My mom? No, she didn't come home. You already heard about her and Luke?" Rory asks in disbelief.

"Yeah, I heard."

"This town is scary. Who told you?"

"I got an e-mail from Taylor. He e-mailed everyone on his employee mailing list. I guessed that was why you so quickly signed off and I thought I'd call and see how you were doing with it."

"Oh, I'm fine with it," Rory says, relief seeping into her voice. "Totally fine with it. My mom can kiss Luke all she wants. I haven't talked to her yet though. It was actually Lane who told me. She came over, that's why I signed off."

"You're really cool with your mom and Luke possibly having a thing?" Dean asks, skeptically.

"Yeah," Rory replies. "It'll probably be easier to get coffee that way."

"Be serious, Rory."

"I don't know. I haven't really had time to think about it that much. It'd probably be an adjustment, yeah, but I'd rather adjust for Luke than for anyone else. But I don't even know what's going on yet, and I won't know until I talk to my mom, so I'm trying not to think it to death."

"Sounds like a good plan. I don't know how you stay so collected all the time. If it were my mom, I'd be freaking out, I think."

"Well, considering your mom is married, I think so."

"No, I just meant that Luke's like her best friend, right? And he's this major part of both of your lives..I just think it'd be a little weird to have him be your mom's boyfriend all of a sudden."

"Once again, jumping the gun," Rory points out. "Let's talk about something else, cause you're totally starting to weird me out and I'd rather put off going through that emotional process for another time."

"Okay. What else would you like to talk about?"

Rory is silent for a moment, wondering if she should even bother bringing up the party or not. Part of her wanted to go and be sociable, since she'd be going to school with these kids all year, but another part of her foresees potential disaster.

"Um...well, there's a party this Saturday. A Chilton one. And we're both invited to go, if you want to."

"Formal?"

"No, completely casual. It's a party, party. With loud music and everything. No dressing up required. We don't have to go, but Henry is going to be there, and I thought maybe if Lane came...but if I go so Lane can go, I'd really like you to be there too."

"You really think it'll be fun?"

"It could be. I won't make any guarantees, but I kind of sort of want to go," Rory replies. "At least for a little while. Since I burned most of my bridges with Paris at the end of last year, I think it'd be a wise idea for me to try to make some new friends."

"I'll go if you really want me to," Dean says. "Where is this party?"

"At Daniel McAllister's house, wherever that is. I'll have to look it up in the Chilton Directory. I'd be guessing it's somewhere in Hartford." Rory cradles the phone on her shoulder, using her free hands to start a new pot of coffee. Whenever her mom came in, she'd surely need some.

"Well, I can drive if you need me to. I'll make sure that I get off for Saturday night, even if it means battling with Taylor," Dean tells her and Rory can tell he's smiling at her over the line.

"Excellent," Rory replies. "You could beat Taylor any day. Though he does have a mean right hook, so watch out for that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dean chuckles. Rory hears a noise on the front porch and hurries toward the foyer.

"Hey, I think my mom's home. I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow." Not waiting for Dean to say good-bye, she hangs up and races to the front door, ready to greet her mother. She's about to open up the front door when she hears Luke's voice.

"So, Lorelai, are you going to avoid me all week again, or are we okay?"

Rory goes to the living room window and pushes aside the curtains, straining to see what's going on. Her mother and Luke are standing very close to one another on the front porch, just at the top of the steps. Lorelai is looking up at him with an expression on her face that Rory was very unfamiliar with. She can't hear her mother's reply, but she assumes it was good because she and Luke lean in toward one another, their lips meeting in a slow and sweet kiss, entirely different than the impulsive ones they had shared previously. It was a kiss made of equal desire and a mutual decision, each silently agreeing that this was the start of something new and exciting.

Rory watches for a moment and then backs away from the window, suddenly aware that she was in fact spying on them. Tiptoeing back to the kitchen as if afraid that Luke and Lorelai can hear her, she takes down two mugs and sets them on the table, filling them to the brim. Sitting down, she waits patiently for her mother to come into the house.

A few minutes later, Lorelai enters, walking into the kitchen with a dazed smile still plastered on her face. She looks at Rory, blushing almost sheepishly. She can tell just with one glance that Rory already knows and has probably known for awhile.

Rory taps a mug of coffee in Lorelai's direction and gestures to the seat across from her.

"Sit down. I want to hear everything."

Giggling, Lorelai takes a seat across from her daughter, but doesn't say a word. She just smiles, tilting her head to one side and giving Rory an innocent look.

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

"Mom, the whole town already knows about the cataclysmic coffee kiss. Lane ran over to tell me and Dean already called saying that Taylor e-mailed quite a few people about it."

"Oo, I finally warranted a Taylor e-mail. I've hit the big time now."

"I've only heard the story in short form. Most details preceding and proceeding the kiss have been left as blanks for a certain person to fill."

"A certain person...the Crossword King of America?"

"I don't think such a person exists, but nice try."

"What do you mean, he doesn't exist? In a society like ours in times like these? I'd put a fair amount of money on the guess that there is indeed a Crossword King of America. He's probably sitting at some run-down gas station in the middle of nowhere, his faithful dog Rusty sitting next to his rocking chair on the front porch as they calmly survey the vast, dust-filled prarie stretched out before them. He has nothing better to do with his time than play Scrabble once a week with the other gas station owner from fifty miles down the road and do his crossword puzzles. I'm sure he has little crossword books shipped in in bulk, big wooden crates full of 'em that are stacked up in his bare living room."

"I see."

"He probably even has an honorary crown. Maybe it even lights up."

"Since when do crowns light up?"

"Since I say they do."

"It's a strange trait to assign to such an object."

"Well, I don't care. I think it'd be pretty."

"Pretty hazardous, you mean. You want a crown full of electrical wiring and hot lightbulbs sitting on top of your head, just waiting to set your hair on fire?"

"Well, the Crossword King is bald, I'm sure. He's old."

"Ah, so the crown will simply burn right into his head, meld right into his skull."

"I'd think he'd be proud to wear it all the time."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd love it. It probably goes nicely with his plaid shirts and overalls, and being so confident in himself and his abilities, I doubt he'd feel emasculated by having to wear a crown 24/7."

"He might like it. I never determined his sexuality. He doesn't have a wife, so you never know."

"Probably because all the women saw the electric light parade on the top of his head and ran far, far away," Rory retorts flatly. "Now drink your coffee and tell me all about the recent developments in Luke Land like a good mother should. No more talk of crosswords."

"But I like crosswords..." Lorelai whines, pouting.

"You hate crosswords. You say they make you feel inadequate," Rory retorts.

"You're mean."

"You're mean too."

"How am I mean?"

"Mom, you were just kissing Luke on our front porch and you won't tell me how it happened."

"See, I leaned in, and then he leaned in, and then...our lips did this funny thing-" Rory glares at her mother and Lorelai stops. "You asked how it happened."

"Let me rephrase. What were the circumstances which led to the Luke-Lorelai kiss?"

"Oh, that. Well." Rory waits for her to elaborate, but when she doesn't, Rory simply stands up, taking her coffee in hand.

"That's it! I'm disowning you."

"That's a bit drastic, don't you think?" Lorelai asks as Rory heads toward her bedroom.

"No, not at all. I tell you everything and you're not even giving me a smidgeon of-"

"Excuse me? You tell me everything? Need I remind you I found out about your first kiss from Mrs. Kim? Discovered the true reason of your break-up from Dean? Dean's not you!"

"Glad of that, cause I'd really rather not date myself," Rory remarks. "And me not telling you a few random things is no excuse. I can't believe that you're holding out on me over something as important as this." She turns and walks into her room, slamming the door behind her. Lorelai frowns deeply and stares at Rory's closed door for a moment, maybe hoping that Rory will come back into the kitchen.

Slowly, Lorelai creeps over to the door and taps on it.

"Rory?"

"I'm mad at you!" Comes the reply.

"Don't be mad. I'm sorry." She is only met with silence. "You want to know what happened?" Silence once again. "I went to the diner and Luke apologized for kissing me. He tried to act like it didn't matter, that it was just an impulse and it didn't mean anything. So me, being me, got all upset and angry because I had been worrying about it so much, and there he was, trying to write it off..."

"And?"

Lorelai leans her forehead against the door.

"So, I did the rational thing. I kissed him, told him it didn't mean anything, and ran out."

"Makes perfect sense."

"Well, to me it did. That's all that counts."

"I wasn't disputing that."

"I was just giving him a taste of his own medicine, I guess. It worked, didn't it?"

"He came after you?"

"Yeah, that he certainly did," Lorelai smiles to herself, giggling. Rory opens her door and Lorelai almost falls flat on her face, managing to save herself from a smushy-faced fate by grabbing onto the doorframe tightly. "Hey, how about a warning next time before you do that?"

"I didn't realize you were using my door as a headrest, sorry," Rory replies defensively, putting her hands up innocently. Lorelai just hmmphs at her, turning away and walking back into the kitchen. "So Luke was running after you, and..." Rory prompts her to continue. Lorelai grins, rubbing her hands together as if about to tell a delicious secret that was so delightful, the mere thought of it was heavenly. She grasps Rory's hands like a swooning school girl talking about her new crush and begins recounting the tale once again.

"So, Luke was running after me and at first I tried to ignore him. I was so mad and so out of it, I just didn't even want to deal with it. I figured he was going to say something even worse and make me feel even worse and since I already felt like I had hit the bottom of the pit of despair, I really didn't feel like being handed a shovel and being ordered to dig even deeper. But then, just as we were rounding the corner, the wonderful haven of home in sight when suddenly Luke got sick of pleading with me to stop-"

"He was pleading?"

"And then he grabbed my arm."

"He grabbed you?"

"Not in the psycho killer I'm-going-to-become-an-obsessive-stalker kind of way but in the Rhett Butler wisking Scarlett up the staircase for a night of passion kind of way. It was a good grab. Very nice. Just the right amount of desperation," Lorelai clarifies, touching her arm where Luke's hand had been as she sits down at the table. "And he looked at me and I looked at him and we just stood there, looking...and staring..."

"Gazing lovingly into one another's eyes?" Rory pipes up and Lorelai points at her.

"Exactly. And all he said was that kissing me meant everything in the world to him. He told me that I am the only person in the world that scares him, because I'm the only person who he could never imagine life without."

"Oh, wow..." Rory sighs, stunned. The look on her mother's face said it all; she was totally in love with Luke, in a way she'd never been in love before.

"Then I told him that I was scared too...for many reasons...and then we agreed to be scared together and then he kissed me," Lorelai smiles tearfully at the memory, twining her own fingers together and glancing at Rory. She wipes the tears from her eyes, laughing slightly. "That kiss was more amazing than a million daisies."

Rory smiles dreamily, never before seeing her mother look quite so happy. She reaches across the table and takes Lorelai's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"I am so indescribably happy for you, Mom."

"Really? I was afraid that you'd be weirded out by this."

"By you kissing Luke? Any potential flipping out will be done inwardly and silently because I know that this is what you want, and it's what I want too. I couldn't imagine fully letting anyone besides Luke into our lives, and while I think it'll be strange at first, any hard times or doubts I may have will be outweighed by the enormous happiness I feel that you've finally found the one person you truly love."

"Loving, supportive, and verbose. I couldn't imagine a better combination," Lorelai tells Rory gratefully.

"How about loving, supportive, verbose, and estatic after winning the lottery?" Rory offers.

"I suppose that would be good, yes, but honestly, right now, just the first three qualities are enough to make me happier than the Trix rabbit after he offs those annoying kids and finally gets some cereal."

"The Trix rabbit and the Lucky Charms Leprechaun are the most persecuted cereal cartoons. They should really form a union with Wile E. Coyote and Yosemite Sam and figure out a way to improve their station in life," Rory remarks. "It hardly seems fair."

"I agree with you on that, it's an excellent point," Lorelai replies, standing up to get some more coffee. Something jingles in her pocket and she pauses for a moment. Then a look of shock passes over her face. "Oh my god."

"What?" Rory asks, alarmed. "You're not having some post-event freaking out, are you?"

"I left the car at Luke's," Lorelai states, then laughs out loud. "The keys are in my pocket, the car is at Luke's. I'm just..."

"Silly."

"Yes, silly I am."

"How very Yoda of you."

"Wise, this young one is. But to Luke's I must go. Collect my car is most important," Lorelai continues. Rory nods knowingly.

"I bet you're just devastated to have to go back to Luke's again."

"Yes, I am devastated. I'm as sad as a Greek tragedy. Shakespeare should be here taking notes." She heads to the front door, another smile spreading across her face. Lorelai glances back at Rory as she opens the door, and finds her daughter just smiling back coyly. "Shush you."

"I didn't say a word."

"I'll be back shortly."

"I won't wait up," Rory retorts and Lorelai sticks her tongue out at her as she walks out the door.

_To be continued._

* * *

A/N: I love you all! Thank you so much for your reviews. They're more than welcome!


	8. Three's A Crowd

_Chapter 8: Three's A Crowd_

"Rory, can I talk to you for a minute?" Dean stops his girlfriend and Lane as they enter the market. Rory looks at him, surprised.

"Why, hello to you too," Rory replies.

"Sorry, hi. Hi, Lane," He says offhandedly to her as he pulls Rory slightly away. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, sure..." Rory screws up her face in puzzlement, tossing a look back at Lane as Dean leads her off to the side. "What's the matter?"

"I can't go."

"Go...where?"

"To that party thing."

"What?" Rory says, surprised. "I thought that you..."

"I did...but I can't get out of work. Taylor had already made the schedule and I can't find anyone to fill in for me, and he needs me. I've been trying to get someone to work for me all week and it just won't work out."

"Are you sure? What about Cynthia? Cynthia always is willing to fill in for people, isn't she?"

"Not this week. Family birthday party," Dean explains, frowning at the dejected look on Rory's face. "I'm sorry, Rory. I knew I said I could go..."

"No...no, it's okay. I mean, I'll just go with Lane. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Cause I thought you didn't want to be third wheel to Lane and Henry, and that's why I felt so bad about bailing on you."

"That's the only reason you felt bad?" Rory challenges him, a little annoyed. Dean sighs.

"No, not the only reason. I was of course bummed that I wouldn't get to spend time with you."

"Better answer. I doubt you're too broken hearted about missing out on all that Chilton action though." She picks up a piece of candy from one of the nearby pins and plays with it absentmindedly. "I'm a bit nervous about it myself."

"Don't be," Dean reassures her. "Even if those jerks harass you, at least you'll have tried. That already makes you the better person."

"That was an excellent thing to say," Rory grins, standing on tiptoe and kissing him quickly on the lips. "You're forgiven for ditching me last minute."

"It's not quite last minute."

"It is Friday. The party is tomorrow night. That's quite short notice."

"Short notice, yes, but I don't agree with the last minute."

"I'm going back to Lane now. I'll call you this weekend," Rory says, tossing the piece of candy back into the bin and walking toward where Lane is waiting, pretending to be enraptured by the paper towel display.

"No kiss good-bye?" Dean inquires as Rory throws him a look back over her shoulder. "Only if you go check the cooler in the storage room and find out if you're hiding any Phish Food back there. You're out of it in the dairy case."

"Will do," Dean mock salutes her and heads toward the back of the market, leaving Rory and Lane to giggle.

"There's Phish Food right here, Rory," Lane points, and Rory nods.

"I know. I just thought it'd be funny to send him back there. He ditched us for tomorrow night."

"You should've told him to find a Ben & Jerry's flavor that doesn't even exist," Lane smirks, heading down the aisle. "Oo, we should get some Sour Skittles. These are great."

"And packed full of sugar, too. Excellent choice," Rory tells her, taking the bag and dropping it into the basket she has slung over her arm. "Oh, grab that box of Ho-Hos. And anything else chocolate. The more chocolate, the better."

"What in the world are you two doing?" Luke appears behind Rory, scaring her half to death. She laughs at herself for being so silly, then turns to Luke.

"What does it look like we're going? We're going to eat enough sugar to make our teeth fall out within seconds," Rory replies matter-of-factly. "And we're going to have fun while doing it. In fact, I think we're going to Memorex the event so we can relive our moments of glory."

"Your mother put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Nope, entirely of my own doing. I figured that since she's going to be preoccupied tonight, I'd have to entertain myself."

"And me, don't forget me."

"And Lane," Rory amends.

"What's your mom going to be doing tonight that has her so busy?" Luke asks, eyeing Rory wearily.

"Grandma and Grandpa are going away for the weekend, so there's no dinner...so my mom is going out with you, of course. Provided that you get on the phone and ask her. Which you will do the instant you get back to the diner." She pokes him in the chest for emphasis.

"Are you making a suggestion, or are you giving me an order?"

"That's an order," Rory laughs.

"So, this pre-emptive junk food hoarding that you're doing because I'm taking your mom out...what would you have done if you hadn't run into me? It would've all been for nothing."

"First, junk food hoarding is never all for nothing. Second, if we hadn't run into you, we would've made sure to stop by the diner and let you know of your duties for the evening. Thirdly, if by some strange force of nature we were prevented from talking to you, my mom was going to call and ask you to do something tonight anyway. I just thought it'd be nice if you called her instead, so I took it upon myself to make that a reality."

"You are reminding more and more of your mother with every passing day," Luke replies.

"Why thank you." Something catches Rory's eye and she picks it up off of the rack with a flair of happiness. "Yes, Pixie Stix! My life is complete."

"You are crazy today," Lane laughs lightly and Rory nods.

"I don't know, it's something in the air. I love Thursdays for some reason."

"Thursday?" Luke repeats.

"It's Friday," Lane corrects her.

"Well, Fridays, then. Fridays are good days too."

"Exactly how much coffee have you had today?" Luke inquires, bending down slightly and staring into her eyes, as if checking to see if she's high.

"Four."

"Only four cups? That's all?"

"No...four pots."

"What?" Luke exclaims in outrage.

"I shared them with my mom!" Rory quickly defends herself. "I didn't drink all four pots on my own!"

"That's it...I'm taking the coffee pot away from you two and breaking it. And I'm cutting off your supply for good. I'll make sure Taylor doesn't sell you any coffee from here either. The Folgers, the Maxwell House...gone."

"You can threaten all you want, but we'll just get it on the black market. Nothing can stop us," Rory chirps defiantly. "Oh, we should go check out."

"I was just thinking you should check in." Rory is confused. "To a mental institute," he clarifies, and Rory just shrugs.

"Come on, our ice cream is melting." Rory pulls Lane toward the registers, practically bouncing. "Call my mom, Luke!"

"Bye," Lane manages to squeak out as Rory grabs her hand, literally dragging her away. Luke shakes his head sadly as he watches them go, but can't keep a small smile from edging its way onto his face.

"Did Lane and Rory leave?" Dean asks, stopping by Luke's side and glancing around.

"They went to check out," Luke mumbles. "Where were you?" He looks at Dean, who is flushed and shivering.

"In the back freezer. I had to get Rory some ice cream."

"She got ice cream."

"Phish Food?"

"Fish food?" Luke asks. "What the hell would she want with fish food? I thought we were talking about ice cream here."

"Phish food is a kind of Ben and Jerry's ice cream," Dean explains, chuckling. Luke rolls his eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't know. I don't buy any of that manufactured, advertised crap with all the stupid names."

"Of course you wouldn't," Dean snorts. Luke glares at him. Rory and Lane pass by, giggling. Dean goes to stop Rory and ask her about the ice cream but she dashes out, just tossing back a simple refrain.

"Call my mom!"

Dean looks at Luke, puzzled.

"She wasn't talking to me, was she?"

"No. I don't think so," Luke replies, unamused. He mumbles something under his breath and heads out of the market, leaving Dean standing there, holding two containers of rapidly defrosting Phish Food in hand.

* * *

"Why is there a large amount of junk food in this cupboard?" Lorelai asks, staring at the shelves which are packed to the brim. A package of Cheetos falls out onto the counter, nearly missing her head. Rory appears in her bedroom doorway.

"What?"

"The junk has reproduced here...it has multiplied and is taking over the kitchen," She gestures to the cupboard as another small bag of chips falls down.

"Are you complaining?" Rory inquires, walking over to her mother. "It's just leftover stuff from last night. Lane and I gorged ourselves while you were out with Luke. We watched Tom Cruise fly planes and good stuff like that."

"I know what you did last night, I'm just questioning the fact that all of this was left at the end of it all. Have I taught you nothing? Junk food night means you eat it all until there's nothing left to eat. It's the one fell swoop idea. This is an extraordinary amount of unhealthy food that was not ingested and now will be tempting me all week long! Luke isn't going to love me anymore if I look like a beached whale!"

"Luke would love you if you weighed four hundred pounds and ate nothing but buntcake."

"I don't like buntcake."

"Cookie cake then."

"What the hell is cookie cake?"

"You know like...a big cookie. Sheet cookie?"

"Ah...Cookie cake is _great_. I _like_ cookie cake," Lorelai says, closing the cupboard. "But-" She stops mid-sentence, a funny look on her face. "Wow."

"Wow, you suddenly have an urge for some cookie cake?"

"Did you hear what I just said? I made a joke about Luke loving me, like...wow. That's just so weird. Isn't that weird?"

"You joking about Luke?"

"Luke loves me. That's just...it feels so nice to say that. I feel happy," Lorelai says, grinning widely.

"I feel happy too," Rory chimes, giving her mom a cute squeeze of a hug. "Do you want me to hide the junk food so you're not tempted to eat it tonight when I'm not home to stop you?"

"Yeah, could you?"

"I'll take care of it," Rory nods and goes to the cupboard, beginning to take stuff out and put it into a pile. "But I think you need to start working on your will power issues."

"I have will power. I have had the will power to resist stuff like icky vegetables all of my life, when everyone was pressuring me to eat them."

"That is not willpower. That is stupidity. There's a big difference," Rory remarks, gathering up all the goods in her arms and stumbling toward her room, dropping a bag of Fritos onto the linoleum floor on the way. Lorelai grabs to pick it up before Rory can return and stop her. Opening it up, she hurriedly pops one into her mouth. Rory comes back and looks at her from the doorway, hands on hips. "What happened to me hiding this on you?"

"Hide the rest. This will appease me."

"Somehow I think it will just whet your appetite," Rory retorts and whirls around, going back into her room.

"Rory! I'm here! Let's party!" Lane calls as she bursts through the front door.

"Lane's here," Lorelai informs her daughter through a mouthful of corn chips.

"Thanks, Mom, because the whole Lane yelling thing really didn't clue me in."

"Sarcasm...heh. And...who wanted the car tonight?" Lorelai inquires as Rory and Lane stop in front of her. Rory shrugs.

"I can just call Tristan if you take away the car," Rory says off-handedly. "He said he'd come pick us up."

"Oh, _did he_?" Lorelai's face lights up. "That's very interesting."

"Yes, the fact that Tristan has a car and is willing to drive it is so interesting it should be studied. Lane and I are going to go get ready now," Rory follows Lane into her bedroom, who looks like a nervous wreck.

"I'm going to have to borrow something of yours to wear. I convinced my mother to let me come but she insisted that I dress like a nun," Lane says, gesturing to her long sleeved black dress with a white collar. "You have to save me from this potential fashion emergency." She flings open Rory's closet as Lorelai appears in the doorway, munching away.

"Does Dean know that Tristan is going to be at this party?"

"No, Mom, he doesn't. No, Lane, wear that one. It looks great on you," Rory points at the dress Lane was about to put back in the closet.

"Ya think?"

"Yeah, you look hot, trust me. So, why didn't you tell Dean?" Lorelai asks, tilting her head inquisitively at her daughter. Rory groans in frustration.

"Because he would get freaked out for no reason and it'd just be a huge mess for no reason so there was no reason to tell him! It'd just be a big deal when it didn't have to be."

"For no reason."

"Yes."

"Ah."

"Don't 'Ah' me when I'm trying to get ready for a party, Mom. All concentration must be placed on looking halfway normal so the mean kids don't throw stones at me, and any diversions, such as fending off my mother's apparent theory that I'm hiding something from Dean and therefore must be feeling something for Tristan, is out of the question."

"I never said anything about you liking Tristan."

"Lane, save me!"

"She didn't, Rory," Lane says, not turning her attention away from rifling through Rory's closet. Just then the back kitchen door opens and Luke walks in, calling Lorelai's name.

"Lorelai? Are you-"

"Luke! I love you!" Rory exclaims happily. Luke stops and looks at her.

"I guess that's good to know," he shrugs, not sure what else to say. "Love you too, kid."

"She's just happy because she thinks your arrival means I'll stop harassing her about Tristan," Lorelai explains, wrapping an arm around him and kissing quickly but lovingly on the lips as if it were the most natural greeting to make in the world. "But she's making assumptions that shouldn't be made. After 16 years of living with me, I think she would know better, but alas..."

"Where are you two going tonight?" Luke asks Rory and Lane, trying to change the subject.

"To a party that one of the Chilton kids is giving," Rory replies. "Which we kind of have to get ready for, which Mom is making impossible."

"I am not," Lorelai throws a chip at Rory. Luke grabs Lorelai by the elbow and starts guiding her out of Rory's bedroom. "Hey, where are we going?"

"We're going to make some coffee," Luke states and Lorelai's jaw drops.

"Excuse me? We're going to do the what now, huh?"

"You have to leave Rory alone so we're going to make coffee," Luke hands her the coffee pot and she chuckles. Setting down the bag of Fritos, she takes the pot to the sink with a joyous smile. From her doorway, Rory smiles back.

"Luke is making coffee...anyone have a video-camera?"

"I make coffee every single day, Lorelai," Luke points out as he gets out the coffee from the fridge. "I just don't drink it."

"You make it very hard to remember why I like you, Mr. Danes," Lorelai says, frowning. Rory shuts her bedroom door, sufficiently convinced that her mother is now distracted and they are safe to go about their business.

"She's in a strange mood today," Lane says, adjusting the dress she has pulled on. Rory nods as she watches Lane twist around like a crazy person, trying to zip herself up. Giggling, she goes over to help.

"Let me get that," Rory offers, easily pulling the zipper up. Lane sighs.

"Dressing is so much easier when it becomes a two person job," she remarks. Rory makes a face.

"If Tristan were here, he would've had such a raunchy response to that."

"Why, what would he have said?"

"Something like, 'Undressing is even easier when you have another pair of hands as well,' and then he would smirk."

"That's not too raunchy. In fact, that would be considered outright flirting in some states."

"But not in Connecticut," Rory states, turning Lane around to face the mirror and fluffing Lane's hair with her hands. "What are you going to do with this tonight? Just leave it down?"

"I haven't thought that far. I'm still debating whether or not this dress is going to work or not. Does it make my shoulders look big?"

"Not in any way shape or form."

"I do, I look like a linebacker!" She exclaims.

"You look like Lane Kim, and Lane Kim is not pro football material," Rory assures her, laughing lightly. "Quit freaking out."

"I don't mean to freak out," Lane responds, wringing her hands. "I'm just...I'm nervous about seeing Henry. I haven't seen him since the mall."

"Why, you think he suddenly got ugly and turned into a big jerk or something? The victim of a teenage science experiment gone horribly awry?"

"No," Lane snorts, then shrugs. "I don't know. We're just...we're still at that beginning stage where I'm just...I'm still nervous every time I see him. How long did it take you to get used to Dean?"

"Not that long. A couple of dates, maybe?" Rory estimates. "I don't know."

"Ah. Well, that's no help."

"Why is it no help?"

"Because I'm not you. You're pretty, and clever, and witty, and you're just...you! Which I am totally not."

"Well, Henry doesn't like me so I suppose that being me would be considered a good thing," Rory retorts, pulling out a dress from the closet. "This looks too fancy, doesn't it?"

"It's fine, Rory. What if Henry is bored with me?"

"Thanks for the sterling advice on the outfit, Lane," Rory replies sarcastically, sitting down on the bed next to her best friend. "And Henry could never be bored with you. I've been friends with you for years and there hasn't been a dull moment yet."

"Thanks," Lane grins, a bit more relaxed but still obviously tense. She pulls at the hem of her dress nervously for a moment, then flexes her fingers and jumps up off the bed. "Okay. I have to stop psyching myself out. It's make-up time."

At that moment, the phone rings, causing Lane to jump.

"Mom, can you get that?" Rory calls through her shut door, but gets no response. It rings a second time and Rory goes to her bedroom door, opening it up. "Mom, can you-" She stops in surprise, finding her mother and Luke kissing each other by the sink, completely wrapped up in one another. It's evident that neither of them are even aware that the phone is ringing, much less that phones still even exist. Racing to get to the phone before the answering machine picks up, Rory chooses to disregard them for the time being.

"Speak," Rory says into the phone as she picks it up. The second the word comes out of her mouth she instantly winces, afraid that her grandmother might be on the other end of the line.

"Nice greeting, Mary."

Rory breathes a sigh of relief.

"Tristan, hi."

"You sound frazzled."

"Well, my mom is making out with Luke in the kitchen, Lane is in my room, freaking out because she thinks Henry is going to get some kind of lobotomy before tonight and he'll decide he actually hates her, and I still haven't even gotten changed for a party I'm supposed to be leaving for in twenty minutes. Oh yeah, and I haven't even considered how long it's going to take me to find the keys without my mom's help."

"Your mom is making out with Luke? When did this happen?"

"Thursday."

"I talked to you on Thursday and you didn't say a word!" Tristan exclaims. Rory shrugs, amused that he's upset by being out of the loop.

"I didn't know about it until after I signed off...why do you care?"

"Luke and I had a little chat the first time I was in Stars Hollow," Tristan informs her, and Rory can almost hear his smirk over the telephone. "I knew it was only a matter of time."

"Well, congratulations, you should start your own psychic hotline."

"I'll look into it."

"As well you should."

"Since you're running so far behind...you want me to come and pick you up? It'd save you key time."

"That's okay, really," Rory replies. "There's no point in you coming all the way out here just to-"

"That's not a problem."

"Tristan, it's a half hour drive, and-"

"Look out your front window," he says, and Rory takes a moment to walk to the front windows and obligingly peek out, though she knows what she's going to find.

"I can't believe you," she says, turning off the phone and going to the front door. She opens it up with flourish, tilting her head and looking out at Tristan, both annoyed and amused at the same time. He's leaning against his silver Camaro, his arms crossed and a playful grin dancing across his face.

"Hey," he says casually, rubbing his chin quickly and then sauntering up the lawn toward Rory. "I was in the neighborhood, so I thought..."

"You're just too much to take sometimes, you know that?" Rory puts her hands on her hips as he walks up the steps, pausing by her side and cocking his head toward hers. Rory shifts, uncomfortable with the strange feeling that flitted through her body at Tristan's closeness.

"Yeah, but you take me anyway." He stands next to her, waiting for her to reply, but she just stares at him for a moment, her mouth temporarily unable to throw out a witty comeback. Tristan is about to say something else when Lane appears at the front door, Rory's round hairbrush tangled in her hair.

"Your brush is attacking me!" She cries out, trying to pull on it, but all she does is whip her head back and forth. "I can't get it out!" Rory grabs Lane's hands and pulls them away from her hair. She starts to work the brush out of Lane's hair, but Lane shrieks. "Ow! Ow!"

"Here, give it," Tristan steps in front of Rory and within a few seconds has effortlessly and painlessly gotten the brush out of Lane's hair. He is met with a look of gratefulness on Lane's part, but a look of astonishment and amusement awaits him on Rory's face. "What?"

"That was very maternal of you," she snickers.

"Quit laughing."

"Should I even ask how you knew how to do that?"

"It's just something...and old girlfriend...shut up. You should be thanking me."

"I'm thanking you. Thank you. I am eternally grateful," Lane says, grasping Tristan's hands in hers.

"Yes, thank you. We need to do our hair now...perhaps you'd like to help? Can you french braid?" Rory taunts, walking all the way back inside as Lane finally lets go of Tristan's hands.

"Actually I can," Tristan tells her, stepping inside. Rory rolls her eyes.

"You can not."

"Want me to prove it?"

Rory pauses for a moment, eyeing him. For an instant she actually believes that he could be telling the truth, but a telltale grin plays at the edges of Tristan's mouth, giving him away.

"You're such a doofus," Rory says.

"Do you want this doofus to make coffee while you get changed?" Tristan counters, pointing toward the kitchen.

"If you want to try, go ahead. I wish you luck," Rory remarks and then goes into her bedroom with Lane, shutting the door. Tristan takes one more step into the kitchen and Rory's comment about needing luck becomes clear. Lorelai and Luke are still standing there, kissing, and Lorelai has the coffee pot in her hand, which is attached to the arm she has around Luke's body. Tristan glances around the room, not sure what to do.

Cautiously, he sneaks up behind the couple and as swiftly and smoothly as possible, he sneaks the pot from Lorelai's loose grip.

When Rory and Lane emerge from Rory's bedroom a few minutes later, three cups of coffee are sitting on the table. Rory looks at Tristan, surprised.

"How did you do this?"

"Your mom wasn't really holding onto it that tightly," he gestures to Luke and Lorelai with a chuckle. Rory sighs as she looks at her mom, shaking her head.

"This is crazy," she mumbles, going into the bathroom and re-entering a moment later, spray bottle in hand. She gets within range of the pair and starts spraying water at them. Lorelai jumps back from Luke's embrace, shrieking slightly in surprise.

"Rory! What are you doing?" Lorelai asks, startled. Rory shrugs.

"I didn't have a hose."

"You're a funny girl." She looks past her daughter and sees Tristan standing there and she smiles. "Why, there's a Tristan in my kitchen."

"Hi, Lorelai. Luke."

"Tristan," Luke grunts back.

"How are you?" Tristan asks, smiling at Luke, who is trying to avoid Tristan's I-Told-You-So smirk.

"I'm dandy - oo, there is coffee on the table. I didn't make that, did I?" Lorelai inquires, not remembering. She looks at the coffee maker, then toward the sink, then back to the coffee. She flexes her fingers back and forth, trying to figure out when and where she had lost grip of the coffee pot.

"No, I did," Tristan explains, suppressing a laugh. "You were otherwise occupied. But that mug right there is for you." He points to the large blue mug and Lorelai claps happily.

"Oo, the biggest one. Tristan, all you need is wings. Someone should ring a bell." Lorelai is met with strange looks from all. "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings? People, tell me you've seen _It's a Wonderful Life_."

Rory and Lane each pick up their mugs of coffee with content smiles, shrugging at Lorelai.

"I'd love to sit and talk about how awesome Jimmy Stewart was with you, Mom, which I know you want to do, but we have a party to go to," Rory says after taking a sip of her coffee. "I'm sure Luke would love to listen, though." Luke shoots Rory a warning look which causes her to giggle, sloshing a bit of liquid over the rim of her cup. "Sorry," she murmurs to him and he grunts.

"Are you implying that listening to me is not as much fun as an 80's tribute night?"

"Listening to you is about as much fun as being the only guy at an Ani DiFranco concert."

"Tristan likes Ani DiFranco," Rory chimes in, and Luke gives Tristan a strange look.

"It's not a good sign when Tristan is being nicer to me than you are, Luke," Lorelai pouts, still stinging over his comment. Luke rolls his eyes at her.

"Now is no time to be taking our insults seriously," Luke says.

"Though one would think that since your mutual attraction is now out in the open, the love-hate relationship would be more of a love-love relationship-"

"Rory, get this kid out of here before I have to hit him," Luke gestures toward the door with his thumb and Tristan, Rory, and Lane all laugh, picking up their various jackets, purses and other items and heading toward the front door.

"He's threatening violence...you're definitely in his good graces now," Rory tells Tristan as she opens the door. "We'll be back around midnight, Mom. If the party is actually fun."

"If it's not fun?"

"Expect me home very much before that."

"Got it. Just checking, in case you were planning on ditching the boring party and going some place more fun...say, a random rave in some strange warehouse where everyone's tripped out on X."

"That's next weekend," Rory jokes.

"And in that case, we'd be home whenever you came to the police station with the bail money to pick us up," Lane adds. Lorelai grins at them both, waving her hands to usher them out the door.

"You're far too witty for me," Lorelai says, acting defeated. "I've created monsters."

"Well, Dr. Frankenstein, have a good night," Rory gives her mom a quick hug. "Should I be expecting any surprises if I come home too early?" She whispers into her mom's ear. Lorelai's eyes widen in surprise.

"Lorelai Leigh Gilmore!" She exclaims.

"Just thought I'd check," Rory smirks. Deciding to escape while she's ahead, Rory ducks outside. "Night."

"Night," Lorelai waves good-bye as the three teenagers walk across the yard toward Tristan's car. Luke stops behind her, setting his hands on her shoulders. As Tristan starts the car and pulls away, Luke lays a light kiss on her neck.

"You do know that I don't really mean any of that stuff right?" Luke murmurs. "I'm just kidding around." Lorelai turns around to face him, smiling as she wraps her arms around his neck and his strong arms slide around her slender waist.

"I know. And I love teasing you back, so don't stop on account of me being pouty about it," Lorelai replies. "Fighting with you makes my day."

"Good to know."

"It definitely is. If I didn't have to battle you for my coffee every day, I don't think the coffee would taste nearly as good."

"I'll keep that in mind next time you tell me to stop harassing you about drinking that junk."

"Damn it...I just walked right into that one," Lorelai mutters. "I was just trying to be all nice and flirtatious and somehow I painted myself right into that coffee-withholding corner." Luke chuckles, pulling Lorelai to him in a sweet kiss. She runs her hands from his five o'clock shadowed face down his neck to the collar of his flannel shirt, playing with the fabric as she pulls back from him. "Hey...do you want to go upstairs and make out like hormonally crazed teenagers on bad television shows?" Lorelai grins at him wickedly, bouncing up and down slightly in place, giddy with the idea.

"That sounds romantic," Luke replies sarcastically.

"So you don't want to?"

"No, course I do."

"Great," Lorelai says. She grabs him by the hand and they dash upstairs, stopping at the top of the flight to engage in a long, heated preliminary kiss before disappearing into Lorelai's bedroom.

* * *

"This is the place, huh?" Lane peeks out the back window at the huge mansion as Tristan pulls to a smooth stop in the cul-de-sac in front of the MacAllister's.

"This is the place," Tristan nods, sounding as bored as Lane sounds awed. He gets out and rounds the car quickly. Rory starts to open her door but Tristan opens it the rest of the way, offering her his hand in getting out. She takes it while giving him a strange look. He helps Lane out, who smiles at him graciously. Tristan hands his keys to the valet who is standing on the walk and even Rory does a double take.

"A valet? Where are we, the Plaza?" Rory asks him. Tristan shrugs, heading toward the house.

"The MacAllister's spare no expense. When they have a party, they do it right. Even if it is just for teenagers."

"You know what I never thought about?" Lane suddenly asks Rory, clutching onto her arm. "Do Henry's parents have this much money? They're not going to want him dating a girl like me. My family owns an antique shop! They're going to flip!"

"Lane, relax. This isn't a Merchant Ivory picture and I don't think any of Jane Austen or Edith Wharton's rules of marriage and class are exactly something to worry about right now," Rory reassures her. They catch up with Tristan, who is waiting for them by the door.

They enter the party and within minutes, Rory is bombarded with all the familiar and uncomfortable Chilton feelings. Having the whole summer away from them had left her unaccustomed to the usual questioning, judgemental stares and mindless, pointless chatter that was now echoing around her ears. She glances at Lane, temporarily paralyzed. Lane, nervous herself, doesn't say anything to help. Tristan sees the look on Rory's face as he returns from the refreshment table and takes her coat from her, replacing it with a cup of punch. He hands one to Lane as well.

"Rory, relax. It's the same people you hated last year, they're just more tan," he leans in and whispers into her ear. "You've got your book in your bag, right?" Rory nods, laughing slightly. The tension begins to slip away. "Then you'll be fine." He spots Henry walking into the room and waves to him. "Lane, Henry's here, so your misery is almost over. Within seconds you'll realize that all of your worries were silly and unnecessary. Henry, hey!" Henry stops by Tristan's side after nearly getting knocked over by a random dancer who has seemingly lost the dance floor.

"Hey Tristan, Rory. Lane, hi," He smiles at her. Lane smiles back at him shyly. "How are you?"

"I'm great...you?"

"I'm great now. You wanna dance or something?"

"Dancing sounds...great."

"Great," He offers her his hand and they walk toward the dancing crowd, Lane looking back over her shoulder at Rory with a relieved grin.

"Well, that went..."

"Great?" Tristan supplies, chuckling. "But now you're stuck with just me."

"Could be worse," Rory tells him. "I could be stuck with Gilbert Godfried."

"Gilbert Godfried?"

"The actor? The voice of that parrot in Aladdin?"

"Oh...yeah. It would really suck if you were stuck with him. He's really annoying."

"And short."

"Short is bad?"

"No, it's just an attribute he has. I happen to prefer guys who are taller than me."

"Like Dean," Tristan states. "Why couldn't he come, again?"

"Had to work," Rory mumbles, shrugging. She takes a sip of her punch and then tucks a flyaway strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"Oh," Tristan replies, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking away, a wave of awkwardness suddenly descending upon them. "Well...you wanna dance or something?" Rory looks at him, unsure. "In a friendly, slow-dance-at-a-Catholic-school way?"

"Ah, the at an arm's length way."

"Exactly."

"I can do that," Rory smiles and heads toward the dance floor. She sets her hands on Tristan's shoulders as he puts his on her waist, about a foot between them. "Miss Patty would kill me if she ever saw me dancing like this."

"The crazy dance instructor?"

"She's not crazy. She's merely...unique?" Rory corrects. "Anyway, she would cry out in terror."

"We could just show her Henry and Lane's marvellous dancing abilities and she'd be temporarily diverted by their astounding ability," Tristan remarks, pointing at the couple who seem melded into each other's embrace.

"And Lane was worried," Rory scoffs. She and Tristan watch the pair for a moment, unknowingly moving a little closer to one another.

"It looks nice," Tristan says quietly, his gaze still trained on Lane and Henry. Rory looks up at him, confused.

"What does?"

"That...being that happy," he murmurs, not looking at her. The silence remains for a moment before Tristan glances at her. "It just must be nice to be close to someone like that, that's all," he shrugs, shaking off any seriousness that he may have caused. "Henry really likes her."

"Well, Lane really likes Henry," Rory replies, a bit relieved that she wasn't forced to respond to Tristan's comment but at the same time, disappointed that he didn't elaborate further. "If only Mrs. Kim would loosen up on Lane a little."

"Vulcan death grip?"

"Yeah. She thinks that if Lane dates any guys that she doesn't personally screen herself, she's going to wind up like my mother."

"Well, of all people to wind up like, your mom isn't bad," Tristan says. "Granted, the whole teenage pregnancy isn't exactly great, but even that wound up being wonderful so Lane's mom should've picked someone else to justify her strictness."

"Well said," Rory replies, nodding. Someone taps Tristan on the shoulder and he and Rory stop dancing for a moment.

"Rory, do you mind if I sneak in here and steal Tristan for awhile?" Cassandra Williams flashes her 100 watt smile at Rory, already stepping between her and Tristan.

"Actually, Cassie...Rory and I were in the middle of a conversation." Tristan shoots Rory a pleading look over Cassandra's shoulder and Rory has to stifle a smile.

"I'm sure she doesn't mind finishing it some other time," Cassandra smoothes her hand down Tristan's chest, tossing a contemptuous look at Rory. Rory crosses her arms over her chest, annoyed at the girl's assumption.

"I do mind, actually. So I guess you'll have to wait," Rory tells her, taking Tristan's hand and leading him away. As Cassie stares after the pair, her mouth still open as she stumbles for a response, Tristan breathes a sigh of relief.

"I owe you big time, Ror," he says.

"Why the desire to escape the witch's clutches?"

"You're the one using the negatively connotated words to describe her, I don't think you need to be told," Tristan retorts as he follows her off the dance floor.

"Still, usually the willingness to make out with you is all it takes to convince you differently. The whole personality aspect of girls hasn't exactly been at the top of your list of desired attributes."

"You still think that about me?"

"Maybe not as much as before, but you haven't given me _much_ evidence to the contrary," Rory remarks, turning around to face him. Tristan cocks his head to the side, moving close to her as she leans against the wall, out of a place to go. Rory looks at him, her blue eyes wavering slightly as he leans toward her, placing his hands on either side of her head.

"Someday I hope I'll be able to convince you otherwise," he breathes lowly into her ear before pulling back. Rory tries to suppress the shiver that runs down her spine at the feeling of his hot breath on her neck or the spark of feeling his body pressed to hers. He smiles at her faintly, suddenly feeling like he might have been far too daring and hastily trying to lighten the mood. "I'd hate to have you think I'm a womanizing jerk on top of all the other complaints you have about me," he adds, stepping back.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rory says, trying to calm her unsteady voice. "But for now I think I'm just going to get some more punch." She points toward the general vicinity of the refreshments and walks away, eager to get away. Feeling what she had just felt was scary, and above all, not good. Tristan DuGrey was in no way supposed to elicit such responses as a faster heartbeat, rushes of heat, or the inexplicable need to escape before doing something impulsive and sexual.

Tristan watches her as she weaves her way through the crowd, trying to decide whether or not the quick escape could be interpreted as good or bad. He doesn't get that much time to debate the issue, because within moments he's been flanked by Louise and Madeleine.

"Hello, Tristan...you're here with Rory?" Louise inquires throatily, putting her hand on his arm.

"With Rory and her friend Lane, yeah," Tristan replies, shrugging.

"You two looked pretty close a second ago..." Louise says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Does this mean that Rory and her big strong boyfriend are no more? I'm surprised...after that big courtyard make up scene they had in May, I figured she was completely off the market."

"She's still going out with Dean. She and I are just friends."

"But don't you like her?" Madeleine asks, confused.

"She has great command of the obvious," Louise remarks, just nodding at Madeleine. She goes back to fixing her hair, which she has now grown out to shoulder length, and is now attempting to tie back.

"I don't like Rory in that way," Tristan lies through his teeth. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, you already said that," Louise replies. "You're going to have to work on sounding more convincing than that if you're going to stop Paris from clawing Rory's eyes out."

"What?" Louise just gestures across the room to where Paris is approaching Rory, looking not too happy.

"She saw you decline Cassie's offer and leapt to conclusions," she explains. "Rory's going to be lucky to even get parking lot duty on the paper now." She smirks and then walks away, leading the distracted Madeleine away with her. Tristan hesitates a moment, not sure what to do, then heads over to where Paris is talking to Rory.

"So, you're here with Tristan, huh?" Paris asks Rory, skipping a greeting entirely. Rory sets down her red plastic cup and turns to Paris with a heavy sigh.

"Paris, hi. Nice to see you too."

"I don't want to hear any stupid small talk. First I have to come to this stupid thing and now you're here with Tristan. I want answers."

"He came with Lane and I. We're just friends. I'm still dating Dean. Please don't start this again," Rory pleads, but one look at Paris and its obvious she's going to continue.

"Do you always dance with other guys when you're dating someone else?" Paris demands, glaring at Rory with venom. "I bet Dean wouldn't be too happy to find out that you were getting close to Tristan in a corner."

"What are you even talking about?"

"You and Tristan, so close to one another that I doubt you could have wedged a piece of paper between you?"

"Paris, that was like for two seconds and we were just talking. It wasn't even anything."

"Didn't look like it."

"Well then get your eyes checked." Rory turns and starts to walk away but Paris hurries and cuts in front of her. "Paris, don't."

"Over the summer I considered forgiving you. I came really close to calling you once. I'm glad that I didn't."

"I'm glad for you."

"I'm thinking of making some cutbacks at the Franklin this year. Tighten the ranks, trim the fat, cut the extraneous variables, you get my drift. And right now, stories about how the parking lot was repaved don't seem all that important."

"Paris, you can't just do that," Tristan suddenly cuts in, appearing by Rory's side.

"I can do whatever I want. I'm the editor and no one is going to question me," Paris snips. "I'm smart, I'm efficient, and the orders I make are orders that will be followed. Believe me, I don't think anyone on staff is going to miss her."

"I'm on the staff, and I will," Tristan counters. Paris crosses her arms over her chest and sets her jaw, glaring at him.

"Fine, then you won't be on the staff either."

"What are you? The next communist leader of the world? Simply get rid of anyone who dares to disagree with you?" Tristan exclaims. "What exactly is your problem?"

"My problem is-" Paris stops, not about to shout out the fact that she hated Rory's guts simply because Tristan was hot for her. "My problem with Rory is none of your business and I frankly don't see why you're even getting involved."

"Rory, what's going on?" Lane and Henry have finally clued in to the scene quickly gaining spectators by the refreshment table and have walked over.

"Your friend and I are just having a conversation," Paris informs her tightly. Rory shoots Paris an annoyed look. "We're discussing her future at Chilton and the fact that she doesn't have one."

"You know what, Paris? That's it." Tristan steps toward her, standing between her and Rory. "You are the most mean-spirited, vindictive person I've ever met. You used to be nice. You used to be decent. Now you're just a jealous stepsister who's mad that she didn't get her own pair of glass slippers. Rory is an amazing person and what really pisses me off is that you _know _that yet you treat her like crap just because she has something that you want but can't have." Tristan moves closer to Paris and speaks quietly so only she can hear. "Me."

He turns and walks away from her without another word, leaving Paris standing there alone, hurt and stunned. Rory glances at Paris then looks after Tristan, shocked by what had just happened. She starts to walk in the direction that Tristan had left and Lane hurries to catch up.

"Rory, are you okay?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to go talk to Tristan for a minute, okay?"

"Okay. Are you sure you're all right?"

"It's just Paris, Lane," Rory shrugs it off, trying not to make a big deal of it even though inside she felt upset. "Go back and hang with Henry. I'll come back in awhile."

"Okay..." Lane gives Rory a quick hug and smiles. "Come find me, I'll probably be dancing." She dashes back off toward Henry and Rory waits a moment before going after Tristan, walking a little faster than normal. He's nowhere to be seen.

"Jake, have you seen Tristan?" She asks the first person she recognizes, who ends up being someone who sat behind her in math class. He points in the direction of the foyer.

"I think he might have left."

_"What?"_ Rory drops the pretense and runs toward the front door and dashes outside. At first she doesn't see Tristan anywhere. Glancing around, she spots him sitting on the grass quite a distance away in the dark. Regaining a bit of her composure, she walks to him silently.

"Hey," she murmurs, sitting down next to him.

"Hey."

"Thanks for that, in there."

"Don't thank me, Rory..." Tristan mutters, picking at a blade of grass and throwing it off to the side. "It wasn't..."

"No...it was. It really meant a lot to me, that you stood up for me like that." A moment of silence follows and Rory just studies him, wondering what is going through his mind. He turns his head and looks at her.

"Do you want to take a ride or something? Just get out of here?"

Rory ponders for a moment then nods.

"Yeah," she says simply, and stands up. "Let's go."

Rory watches the road slip by as Tristan drives along the dark road. They had put the top down and the cool, clean night air felt wonderful on her face, blowing her hair freely. The moon was full overhead, shedding a faint white light onto the unlit road.

She looks over at Tristan, feeling more peaceful and comfortable than she has felt in a long time. They hadn't said one word since leaving the MacAllister's, and that had been a full forty-five minutes ago. But the silence was not strange. Rory felt no pressure to make petty conversation or to ramble on awkwardly just to fill the void. The soothing melodic strains of Duncan Sheik's newest CD emanated throughout the car and surrounded her, enveloping her in its simple harmony. She closes her eyes and leans on the car door, simply soaking in the beautiful sound of the opening verse of The Wind that Blows.

A few minutes pass before she looks at Tristan again. Rory's eyes drift over him, entranced for a moment at how beautiful he looks with the moonlight casting a glow over the chiselled planes of his face. He feels her gaze and glances at her, smiling gently. She smiles back, hoping the night conceals her blush, and settles deeper into her seat, casting her gaze back up at the night sky, which is littered with stars. The night is clear enough that she can pick out a variety of constellations and she almost breaks the silence to point them out in excitement, but the moment just seems to precious to be broken with unimportant words.

Rory shivers despite herself as a cold breeze sweeps by and Tristan reaches into the back seat, blindly feeling for his jacket. He finds it and hands it to her. Not really feeling cold but touched by the gesture, Rory wraps the coat around herself and snuggles back against the seat. The tall oak trees and pine trees which line the street rustle in the night wind and a couple of birds decide to move their location, flying from one tree to another.

Tristan pulls to a slow stop at the end of the road. The option of continuing to go straight barred by the forest, Tristan looks left and then right, then at Rory.

"Which way do you want to go?" He asks.

"Whichever way takes us longer to get back," she replies, leaning forward and turning the music up a notch. Tristan grins and puts his directional on, feeling perfectly content to just keep driving all night long.

* * *

"So, where did you and Tristan go last night?" Lane asks, handing Rory a cup of coffee and sitting down across from her on the couch.

"We didn't really go anywhere," Rory replies, telling a truth that also doubled as a denial.

"You disappeared for a long time, Rory. You better tell me where you went or I'm going to draw all the wrong conclusions," Lane warns, raising an eyebrow and tapping her friend on her cordouroy-clad knee. Lorelai enters the living room, hearing Lane say something about drawing the wrong conclusions.

"Are we having a Picture Page in here?" She inquires, sitting down on the floor. "You better make a pretty picture, especially since Lane is hinting at all the makings of a Picasso over there."

"Picasso was a master."

"Picasso was a guy on crack who couldn't draw so he made up that whole "cubism" thing. Then suddenly everyone was like, 'Oh, he's so profound,' and 'How unique and new' when really all they were seeing was the result of some whacked out drug trip," Lorelai retorts.

"A lot of great art is the result of drugs. Both Jackson Pollock and Vincent Van Gogh were fans of the bottle."

"Yeah, and Van Gogh also cut off his ear, sent it to a prostitute, and then went crazy from syphilis. Kind of takes away from my ability to look at Starry Night and go Oo and Ahhh. Now tell me where you went with Tristan before I have to open a can of whoopass." Rory looks at her mom strangely but Lorelai is not bothered. "We're waiting."

"Tristan and I went driving...that's all."

"Driving? Where'd you drive to?" Lane asks.

"That's just it, we didn't drive anywhere. We just drove. Or rather, he drove and I was the happy passenger," Rory picks at a stray thread on the pillow she's holding in her lap, a faint smile appearing on her face at the memory of the night before.

"Happy?" Lorelai repeats and looks at Lane with overdramatic alarm. "She said happy."

"I heard," Lane says. "Why were you happy?"

"More importantly, what was he doing to make you happy and do I have to break some bad news to Dean?"

"Mother."

"It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"No, it's not. Paris and I had a fight and Tristan stuck up for me. Afterward we were talking outside and we decided to go for a drive just to get away for a few minutes. So we did."

"For an hour and a half."

"It was a nice night."

"What did you guys talk about for an hour and a half by yourselves?"

"That's just what made it so amazing, we didn't talk," Rory explains.

"You didn't talk," Lorelai echoes in disbelief. "Rory Gilmore, my daughter, was with Tristan DuGrey and did not engage in a wild banter brawl? I find this hard to fathom."

"Well, we didn't. We just listened to music and drove," Rory looks away, smiling to herself again. "It was...it was one of the best nights of my life."

"Better than the time when you were nine and we went to Taylor's house at one in the morning and TP'ed his trees because he wouldn't sell me a five lb. bag of sugar for fear I would use it for recreational purposes?"

"That ranks up there, yes, but..."

"But driving with Tristan was better?" Lorelai exclaims. "I feel so underappreciated right now."

"You shouldn't be the one worrying. I'm the one who's about to be replaced," Lane says, and Rory groans in frustration. "What? If he's your new best friend, where does that leave me?"

"Lane, do you even remember yesterday? What happened to being my safe haven?"

"You may have driven past the safe haven last night while you were out with Tristan but were too busy not talking to notice," Lane teases.

"I should start keeping things from you two," Rory remarks. "I do this every single time, I never seem to learn."

"For being a smart girl, it took you awhile to figure that out," Lorelai replies. The doorbell rings before Rory can muster a comeback, and she takes the chance to escape. She's out of the room for only a few moments, returning with a large manila envelope in hand. "You got a package? I love getting packages, they make me feel important." Rory looks at it for a minute. "Open it!" Lorelai commands impatiently.

"I never get any fun mail," Lane complains as Rory tears the top of the envelope open and pulls out what appears to be a newspaper, yet it's completely blank. She stares at it in disbelief.

"What's the matter?" Lorelai asks, wondering what's causing the strange look on her daughter's face. Rory grins and gestures for her mom and Lane to come look. Lorelai peels off the yellow post-it note stuck to the paper and reads it out loud.

"Rory- I was going to save this surprise until school started just in case Paris decided to change her mind about the music column, but since she is obviously going to continue being a pain...here you go. It's all cleared with the school board, and it's all yours - Tristan. P.S. Just think how great Founder of her own School Newspaper will look on your transcript." Lorelai holds up the newspaper, which only has the simple headline on top. The Chilton Beat. Below in smaller print, Rory's name is written as editor. "Rory, honey, this is amazing."

"I know!"

"I can't believe it...your own newspaper! This is beyond...anything. Ever."

"You'll have to help me, Lane. You can be my special contributor," Rory exclaims, taking the paper from her mom happily and looking at it. "God...wow. I have to call Tristan." Rory dashes off toward her bedroom, grabbing the telephone on the way. Lorelai turns to Lane and they exchange looks.

"I think the words you're looking for are 'Dean Who'?" Lorelai supplies Lane, who seems at a loss.

"Should we tell Dean he's in trouble?"

"No...but maybe we should tell him to start looking into getting Rory her own magazine."

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for your reviews. You guys are the best!


	9. Changes

_Chapter Nine: Changes_

"Can you believe that it's junior year already?" Lane tosses her coffee cup into the trash can on the corner as she and Rory step out into the street. "It's insane."

"I don't know where the summer went," Rory replies, shaking her head sadly. "I'm not ready to go back to Chilton yet."

"You think I'm ready to go back to Stars Hollow High? Do you have any idea how many AP classes my mother is making me take this year? She got a list of all the extracurricular activities that are possible to join at school and she wants me to pick at least ten. Ten, Rory! I am going to have no life."

"Can you really fit ten APs into your schedule? Do they offer that many?"

"Okay, so maybe six. But six is still a lot."

"I'm sorry, Lane. I promise that I'll keep sneaking you junk food and messages from Henry on a regular basis."

"Is he going to be in any of your classes this year?" Lane asks excitedly, her mood suddenly changing for the better.

"I won't know until I actually go to school," Rory smiles. "But I promise I'll call you and let you know the second I get home."

"You're the best friend ever."

"Why thank you." Rory and Lane approach the bus stop and spot Dean standing there already, leaning against a street lamp. He sees the two girls walking across the street and takes a few steps toward them.

"Hey, you," Dean grins, leaning down to kiss Rory on the cheek. "You all ready for your first day back?"

"Ready? Don't know. But I think I'll make it through the day in one piece, which is a good thing."

"Good, because I wouldn't want Mrs. Potato Head for a girlfriend," Dean retorts with a wink.

"Mr. Potato Head might've been a bit jealous if you took his wife for your girlfriend anyway," Rory points out. "So, how about you? Are you all set for your first day back?" Rory asks. "Do you and Lane have any classes together?"

"We won't know until we actually go to school," Lane echoes Rory's comment from moments before and Rory sticks her tongue out at her. Lane sticks her tongue out back at her and Dean just shakes is head.

"I love the kindergarten mentality," he remarks. Lane and Rory turn their tongues on him.

"You're a meaniehead," Lane tells him. "I'm not playing kickball with you at recess and I'm going to tell all the other girls that you're icky."

"I should've known better than to cross you two," he jokes, giving Rory a quick kiss on the cheek. "I have to meet Todd before class to talk about getting my dirt bike back from his garage, so I will catch up with you lovely ladies later. Have a great day back, Ror. Hope you don't have too many classes with that Tristan jerk."

"Oh...yeah. Me too," Rory stutters, hiding her nervousness with a cough.

"I'll call you later tonight, we should do dinner or something to mourn the end of summer," Dean kisses her again and then waves good-bye to Lane before crossing the street. Lane turns to Rory, crossing her arms.

"You still haven't told Dean that you and Tristan are friends now?"

"It hasn't come up in conversation, that's all," Rory excuses herself. "Besides, why does he have to know? It'll only make him more paranoid about it than he already is."

"But he's going to find out, it's not like you can keep it from him forever. Especially if you and Tristan are working on your newspaper together," Lane points out. "Besides, if you're really going to be friends with Tristan like you say...you can't go around trying to hide him from Dean all the time. Both of them will end up getting hurt."

"I know," Rory sighs, glancing down the street as the bus turns the corner and starts slowing to a stop. "I just don't know how to convince Dean that Tristan is nothing to be worried about. He's really threatened by him, I don't really know why."

"You don't know why." Lane shoots Rory a look and she frowns.

"Okay, so maybe I do know why...but then I don't because I don't see how I've ever given him a reason to doubt me," Rory shrugs and Lane mimics her.

"I would love to have your problems," Lane jokes with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "Torn between two beautiful men. What's a poor girl to do?" Rory casts a glare at her.

"I am not torn between anything."

"Whatever you say."

"I'm getting on the bus now," Rory gestures in the direction of the bus as it comes to a halt in front of them, the brakes screeching.

"Tell Tristan I said hi," Lane smirks. The door to the bus opens with a loud whoosh and Rory hops up onto the first step, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

"Yeah, I bet Henry would be really thrilled with that, when I go up to Tristan and give him your salutations and completely ignore him."

"Salutations? Charlotte wants her web back," Lane retorts. "And anyway, what's the harm in telling Tristan hello? While Henry is adorable and fabulous in every single way, I am not blind to the charms of other men. I mean, have you seen Tristan? The guy is a golden god. Billy Crudup has nothing on him."

"I'm taking away your copy of Almost Famous," Rory says. The bus driver coughs and starts to close the door. "I have to go sit down. Call you later!"

"Good luck!" Lane shouts as the door closes and the bus pulls away from the curb. Rory waves out the window as she takes her seat, then settles in for the long boring bus ride ahead of her.

* * *

"Coffee," Lorelai demands as she sits down at the kitchen table, her eyes still half closed with sleep. She tugs at the strap of her loose tank top and throws a glance in Luke's direction. Luke, already dressed and in the midst of making breakfast, eyes her amusedly.

"Good morning to you too," he says, his voice ringing with sarcastic cheer. Lorelai pounds the table with her hand.

"Coffee," she mutters again. Luke sets a mug down in front of her and fills it up to the brim. She immediately takes a long sip and then sighs. A smile graces her face and her eyes flitter open. "Wow, having you here in the morning is just too amazing. I could so get used to this."

"Try not to," Luke mumbles back, setting a plate of food in front of her. "I really don't trust leaving Caesar to open the diner and handle the early morning crowd, I probably shouldn't make a habit of this," he turns toward the sink. Lorelai stands up, ignoring the steaming, appetizing breakfast in front of her. She circles her arms around his waist and stands on tiptoe to kiss the back of his neck. He turns around to face her, a small smile playing at his mouth.

"I think Caesar has worked for you long enough to handle things at least a few mornings a week. I'm trusting Michel to do the early morning stuff, and that tops your show of trust by..." Lorelai holds her hands out a large space away from one another. "This much."

"Fine, you win," Luke retorts and Lorelai returns her hands to the sides of his scruffy face. They kiss one another deeply, lingering in their warm embrace.

"Oh, I could definitely get used to that, too," Lorelai sighs, leaning her forehead against his with a giddy smile.

"That I'm perfectly fine with," Luke grins, kissing her again. After a few moments he breaks away. Lorelai looks at him with questions in her eyes. "Your breakfast is getting cold," he tells her caringly. "You should eat."

"Only if you stop playing Julia Child for a moment and sit and eat with me," Lorelai tugs on his plaid shirt and then pulls out the chair next to her place. "You're like the damned Energizer Bunny. And while I appreciate your cooking...and cleaning...and well, pretty much doing everything...you're never as cute as when you actually sit down next to me and keep me company." Lorelai extends a forkful of scrambled eggs toward him and he takes it from her. They eat in silence for a moment before Lorelai continues.

"Rory handled you being here this morning really well, don't you think?"

"I think the breakfast helped a lot. It must've been amazing to eat something other than pop tarts or my muffins on a weekday," Luke smirks, taking another bite of the food that Lorelai extends out to him.

"Don't mock the pop tart," Lorelai warns him, before continuing her previous train of thought. "It's so amazing how much more of an...adult Rory seemed to me today when she left," Lorelai says, smiling wistfully. "I remember taking her to school last year..."

"Dressed like a rodeo queen..."

"Shut up. And she looked so tiny and scared and Chilton was so huge and the people were so scary..." She shakes her head, cutting a piece of sausage on her plate. "And this year...just off she went. So confident. It was like she was all grown up, all of a sudden."

"Funny how fast it all happens, isn't it?" Luke replies, his face clearly showing that he's thinking about how fast Rory has grown up as well. "I can still remember when you brought her into the diner for the first time. She was so small and you had her dressed in that awful bright pink jumper..."

"That was cute!" Lorelai exclaims, swatting him on the arm. "You just have no fashion sense. She was the most hip baby in all of Connecticut. All of the Northeast, in fact."

"Why not the whole nation?"

"Try the whole universe, actually. No one was more cool than Rory Gilmore at age 2," she states emphatically. "Though I think that Rory Gilmore at age 16...definitely giving her a run for her money. This year is going to be a wildly entertaining one as far as her boy admirers go, I'm telling you."

"Bag boy have some competition?" Luke asks, leaning back into his chair. "It's that Triscuit kid, isn't it?"

"Tristan, and yes," Lorelai rolls her eyes at him. "And I happen to like him. He's nuts about Rory but is far more exciting than Dean, and gorgeous to boot. Dean is a peach, really, but Tristan is a..." She stops, searching for the word.

"Nectarine?"

"I was using peach as a synonym for sweetheart, but if you wish to use it literally..."

"I'm not a fan of the figurative, thanks. I think if you want to say something, just say it. It makes life a lot easier."

"So if I were to call you a..." Lorelai taps her chin and looks up at the ceiling, pretending to think really hard. "Monolith, you'd take it as me calling you a really large rock and nothing else?"

"I'd assume you were talking about Stonehenge."

"Don't get me started on Stonehenge." Luke raises an eyebrow, which only urges Lorelai onward. "I saw a special on it on the Travel Channel once. Forget the Druids...that place is definitely the result of alien visitation."

"I don't think I want to hear anymore about this."

"Either that or incredibly tall and hugely powerful human beings with the ability to lift humongous rocks. And somehow the humans option doesn't seem too convincing," Lorelai tells Luke matter...of...factly. "So my vote is for the aliens."

"Drink your coffee and just stop talking," Luke orders her, though he's half...smiling.

"You're ordering me to actually drink coffee for a change? This is highly unusual. Maybe you're an alien." Lorelai stands up, sets her coffee mug down on the table, and looks at him very closely. She takes his face in her hands and turns it from side to side, and then looks him up and down. Then she peeks under his hat and walks once around him. Crossing her arms and sighing, she shakes her head. "No, no signs of alien life forms in that body." Lorelai suddenly grins wickedly and claps her hands together with a laugh. "Maybe I should strip search you. Just to make sure."

"I'd love to take you up on that but like I said..." He gestures toward the door. Lorelai frowns and rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Gotta go do the 'adult' thing and go to work..." She mumbles in a heavy doldrum voice. "Blah, blah, blah..." Luke rolls his eyes back at her and they both break out into smiles. Lorelai wraps her arms him and kisses him once sweetly. "I'll come visit you for lunch."

"Sounds good." Luke starts to withdraw from her arms and she pouts.

"Sure you can't stay and eat with me?" She follows him out into the foyer.

"Lorelai..."

"All right. I'll see you later, party pooper." She sticks out her bottom lip as far as it can go and gives him puppy eyes. Luke kisses her forehead and then heads toward the door, casting a look down at her feet.

"By the way, I love the slippers," he comments as he opens the door. He shoots her a quick smile before the door closes. Lorelai looks down at her monkey and banana slippers and grins. Kicking one foot up, she turns and flies back toward the kitchen, happily returning to the breakfast waiting for her on the table.

* * *

Rory stops in front of her locker, dropping her heavy bookbag down onto the ground by her feet. A short girl with wavy, dark red hair is standing at the locker right of hers, looking as if she's about to burst into tears. She tugs on her locker harshly, obviously unable to get it open. Recognizing the girl's struggle as incredibly familiar, Rory sets a hand on her shoulder.

"Here, let me show you something," Rory takes the slip of paper with the girl's combination from her hand and quickly spins the numbers. "If you go four past the last number and then-" Rory lightly bangs the area right above the lock. "Hit there, it'll open without a problem." Rory opens it with ease and the girl looks at her gratefully.

"Thank you so much. I've been trying to get this thing open for the past fifteen minutes," she smiles.

"I know how it is," Rory nods. "You're new to the school?"

"Yeah, it's really obvious, isn't it?" She laughs.

"A little bit, but don't worry about it," Rory says. "I'm Rory, by the way. If you need any help with anything, just let me know. I went through the whole Chilton initiation last year."

"I'm Mary," she replies. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. You're lucky that your name is actually Mary." Mary looks at her, confused. Rory opens up her own locker and stops short in surprise before she can explain her comment. "Tristan." A large cup of steaming hot Starbuck's coffee is sitting on the bottom of her locker along with a wrapped chocolate chip muffin. She turns around, looking up and down the hallway for him. As she turns back toward her locker, she jumps a mile, finding Tristan leaning against the lockers just to her left. "Tristan!" She exclaims, startled. He smirks and she rolls her eyes.

"Hey there, Mary," he greets her playfully. Mary glances over at Rory in surprise at hearing her voice. She sees Tristan and her mouth falls open slightly. Rory notices the girl staring and smiles.

"You're going have to stop calling me that this year cause it's going to get really confusing," Rory tells him and he looks at her, puzzled. "Let me introduce you to an actual Mary. She's new this year." Rory steps back and Tristan notices the short girl behind Rory for the first time. "Mary, this is Tristan."

"Well, this just isn't going to work," Tristan shakes his head. "We'll have to think of a nickname for you, Mary, because Mary is already taken."

"My mom calls me Shorty, but that's not very original," Mary shrugs. Tristan shrugs back.

"You could do the sane thing and call her Mary and call me by my actual name, you know," Rory cuts in but Tristan ignores her plea.

"Shorty will work wonderfully," Tristan smiles, extending his hand to her. Rory groans. "Nice to meet you, Shorty. My friends call me-"

"An egotistical maniac," Rory interrupts with a snort. "Among other things." Tristan covers his heart as if wounded and Rory and Mary both laugh good-naturedly.

"See if I ever bring you coffee in the morning again," Tristan tells her. "This is the thanks I get for being a good friend," he says to Mary, shaking his head sadly.

"Thank you very much, Tristan," Rory replies, lifting the cup from her locker and taking a long sip. "For supplying my elixir of life, I will choose to overlook the many questions presented by this magical coffee appearance, such as how you ever got into my locker."

"I'm just brilliant, that's all," Tristan smiles, winking at her. He picks up her bookbag from the floor and starts putting her books into her locker as she drinks her coffee. "What's your first class?"

" Let me check," Rory pulls her new schedule from the front pocket of her backpack. "Um...European Literature. You?"

"The same. Should be more fun than I can handle."

"I, personally, am looking forward to it," Rory remarks, inwardly letting herself admit that she was relieved Tristan was in her class. Facing the first class alone wasn't something she had been looking forward to.

"You would," he replies. "This girl is obsessed with anything that comes in a hardcover edition," he sidebars to Mary, who is loading up her own backpack with the books for her first class. She laughs lightly.

"I'm not that particular. Paperback is included as well," Rory corrects. "Do you have to go to your locker before class?"

"No, I'm all set." He holds up the books he's carrying in his right hand. He picks up her bag with his left and hands it to her. She takes it, almost crushing her muffin in the process. Tristan takes her coffee from her without being told and lets her get the bag situated on her shoulders, then hands it back to her.

"Thanks," she murmurs. "We'll see you later, Mary," Rory waves with a couple of free fingers as she and Tristan head down the hallway.

"Bye, Shorty," Tristan adds. Mary waves back with a smile and then shuts her locker. She turns to go in the opposite direction and runs right into Paris, who was just approaching her own locker.

"Watch where you're going!" Paris shouts at her and Mary jumps, frightened. Tristan and Rory stop and look back, both hearing Paris' harsh voice.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes quickly and scurries off, trying to avoid Paris' glare. Paris pulls open her locker with a bang and, feeling someone's eyes on her, throws a look in Tristan and Rory's direction. Upon seeing them standing together, she rolls her eyes and returns to gathering her school materials. Rory and Tristan exchange looks.

"Looks like Paris hasn't changed her attitude at all," Rory says quietly. Tristan nudges her lightly and nods his head in the direction of class.

"Come on. We'll be late." They walk down the hallway a short distance and turn into the last classroom on the right. Most of the class is already there and seated, so Rory and Tristan make their way to the few empty seats left toward the far right side. Rory tosses her now empty coffee cup into the trash can before taking a seat. She scans the classroom carefully and Tristan notices. "Looking for someone?"

"Yeah. Henry," she states. "It's very important that I have at least one class with him so I can give Lane a shred of hope at maintaining secret contact."

"I saw him this morning and I know we have fifth period together. Do you have U.S. History then?"

Rory pulls out her schedule again.

"That I do," she grins. "Excellent. That's one less thing to worry about." She gives a huge sigh of relief. Tristan smiles, amused by her happiness.

"Speaking of things to worry about-" Tristan starts, but is interrupted by the teacher coughing loudly as he gets up to the front of the classroom.

"All right, class, all private conversations must desist immediately. It is precisely 8:30am and this is when we will begin class every day, without fail. You step in that door at 8:30 and thirty seconds and I will have no qualms about sending you down to the headmaster's office, who I'm sure will be equally willing to provide you with detention for tardiness. I am Mr. Redmann, and I will be your instructor for the next twenty weeks. Please open your notebooks and textbooks and have your pens ready, because I do not pause for the unprepared."

He turns to the chalkboard and writes the name James Joyce in small, messy cursive writing at the very top.

"We will be beginning with James Joyce's masterpiece, The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. You were told to read this novel over summer break, so if you did not, you better start praying for a miracle right now, because in fifteen minutes I will be handing out a short quiz on the material. This quiz will determine who I like for the rest of the year and who I will not." A few students titter at this comment and Mr. Redmann casts a stern gaze in their direction. "You think I'm kidding? Let me clarify. I'm not."

* * *

"Well. That was..."

"Horrifying?" Rory supplies as they step out into the hallway. "I can not believe he yelled at Fiona for sneezing."

"Or that we took seventeen pages of notes in forty-five minutes? On only two passages from the book?"

"My brain hurts already. This is not a good sign," Rory moans.

"And you were looking forward to this."

"I was naïve," Rory replies. Tristan sighs and looks down at the books in his hands.

"I don't think I like this James Joyce guy."

"I used to, but I think Mr. Redmann is going to ruin everything for me." They both fall silent for a moment, too tired to think. Rory leans her head against the locker next to Tristan's and closes her eyes as he opens his locker up. He quickly exchanges his books and slams it, jarring Rory's eyes open. "Ow. Loud."

"Sorry. So, I'll see you fifth?" He asks. She nods, barely moving the rest of her body from her spot.

"See you then," she mumbles. Tristan walks off down the hall, mustering up the willpower not to glance back at her. Rory watches him walk away, her brain locked in on his retreating form. Suddenly, as if remembering where and who she is, she stands up straight and shakes her head fiercely. "God...wake up," she mutters. Realizing that she hasn't left herself a lot of time to get to her locker and to class, she hurries away. When she reaches her locker, she groans out loud. Paris turns and looks at her, annoyed.

"Why if it isn't Rory Gilmore. Where's your other half?" Paris snorts and Rory slowly approaches, wishing that Paris would just disappear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies, keeping her gaze focused on the lock as she twirls the combination.

"You and Tristan haven't been anywhere without each other today," Paris snipes.

"What, the whole massive one time you've seen us? We were going to class. A class that we had together."

"How does that render my statement untrue?"

"Okay, you got me, Paris. Tristan and I have been everywhere together in school today. What's your point?"

"My point is exactly that. Are you two dating now?"

"No, nothing has changed since the last time you interrogated me two weeks ago. Dean is still very much my boyfriend."

"Then why is Tristan arranging for you to have your own newspaper?"

"Why do you think?" Rory asks, disbelieving.

"Because you two have something going on."

"No, it's because you were being awful to me, and since he's my friend, he was trying to make me feel better. That's what friends do." Rory takes the books for her next two periods out of her locker, not bothering to get rid of her books from first period. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to do than stand here and argue with you about stupid things like me and Tristan." She slams her locker and walks off, leaving a seething Paris behind.

Madeleine and Louise walk up to her, flanking her on both sides. The three of them look in the direction that Rory went.

"Rory still playing the innocent school girl?" Louise purrs, cocking an eyebrow and smirking.

"She hasn't changed a bit, if that's what you're asking," Paris snaps.

"Well I doubt she'll be innocent much longer if something is happening with Tristan. He's not exactly known for his chastity," Louise replies. Madeleine looks at them both, confused.

"Tristan does volunteer work?" She asks and Paris rolls her eyes.

"Not charity, Madeleine, chastity. Have you ever even looked at a dictionary in your life?" Paris snorts. "Enough of this, we're going to be late." She stalks away and Madeleine and Louise follow much more slowly and leisurely.

* * *

Rory looks up as someone sets a lunch tray down next to her with a heavy thud. Smiling, she pulls her headphones off and turns to Mary as the girl sits down next to her.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" She asks, clearly exhausted. Rory shakes her head no quickly. "You looked like you didn't want to be bothered, but I couldn't find anyone else in this whole cafeteria who wasn't going to rip me to shreds in an instant."

" No, it's no bother. I just listen to music and read to keep them from ripping me to shreds so we're in the same boat. How's your first day going?" Rory asks and the look on Mary's face says it all. "That bad, huh?"

"This place is scary, the teachers are scary, the workload is scary, and my classmates are even scarier," Mary explains. "Do you know who Paris...Gellar is?"

Rory bites back a grimace. "Boy do I ever. I saw her run into you today in the hall. Has she bothered you at all since?"

"She's in my chemistry class and I could feel her throwing daggers at me with her eyes for forty-five minutes straight." Rory is confused for a moment.

"Wait…you're a junior too?" Rory inquires. "I thought...I'm sorry. I was under the impression that you were a sophomore or..."

"A freshman?" Mary laughs. "Don't feel bad. I think I look a lot younger than I actually am."

"Wow, so you're starting here as a junior? That has to be so hard."

"It's not so bad. I went to private school in New York before I came here, so this whole system of elite education isn't really all that unfamiliar. It's just the new faces, the new atmosphere...Eek." Mary laughs somewhat nervously. "A lot to handle in one day."

"Well you can always eat lunch with me so at least that is one thing you won't have to worry about," Rory tells her with a smile. She takes a drink out of her bottle of iced tea as Mary settles into her seat.

"Thanks." Mary glances over at the stack of papers Rory has sitting in front of her, her own lunch pushed off to her side. "What's all this?"

"Oh, it's just stuff I'm working on for my newspaper."

"You work on the school newspaper?"

"No, not exactly. Our lovely friend Paris is the editor this year...and Paris hates me and refused to let me have any substantial part in this year's paper, even though I really wanted to write the music column. So I started my own paper. Rather...Tristan started it," Rory explains, a smile creeping across her face. Mary looks impressed.

"How did he do that?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Rory laughs. "But apparently he just asked the school board and..." She stops, shrugging, a faint look of happiness lighting her face. "There it was. It was really amazing. It's called the Chilton Beat...and that's pretty much all that's been settled so far. I haven't gotten anything ready yet and it's due at the end of this week." Rory looks down at the pages of notes laying in front of her. "I'm not quite sure where to start."

"It's so cool that you have your own paper. Maybe I can help you out with something, sometime."

"You're on board then, right now. You're my third staffer," Rory grins, handing her a blank sheet of paper.

"Are you serious?" Mary asks, as if she hadn't really believed Rory would even consider it.

"Of course. Write anything you want, as long as it's music related. Are you really into music?" Rory backtracks, suddenly realizing Mary may have no knowledge in the area at all.

"Am I into music? What a question," Mary scoffs jokingly. "Columbia Record Company is my godsend. My collection of CDs is now 300 plus. It's basically where all of my money goes."

"Excellent." Rory is relieved.

"Who else is working on the paper with you? I'm assuming Tristan..."

"Yeah, Tristan is...and so is my best friend Lane. She's going to be a kind of...contributing guest columnist..." Rory stumbles for a title to give her. "She doesn't go to this school so I'll have to think of some interesting way of sneaking her in there."

Mary picks up her fork from her lunch tray and stirs the mashed potatoes that look none too appetizing. She grimaces and sets her fork back down. Rory hands her an apple from her lunch.

"Always pack," she advises. "I don't even want to know what's in the cafeteria food."

"Sounds like a good idea," Mary agrees, sliding her tray away from her in disgust. She takes the round little sticker label off of the apple and puts it onto the discarded tray. "So can I ask you a question about Paris?"

"If you want to know why she is the way she is, I'm not quite sure. But if it's anything else, I'll give it a go."

"I was just wondering why she dislikes you so much. I mean...as far as I can tell, you're the nicest person in this entire school. You're the only person who has gone out of the way to help me today. I don't get it."

"At first it was because she thought I was going to take her place as head of the class, then later it turned into this whole...Tristan jealousy thing..." Rory frowns. "She's liked Tristan for a really long time and somehow she got it into her head that he and I have something romantic going on between us, and therefore, she hates my guts."

"But...I thought...I thought you and Tristan were going out. I mean, I thought he was your boyfriend," Mary says, clearly puzzled. "It just seemed like...I was wrong?" Mary guesses from the look on Rory's face.

"Tristan and I actually just started being friends. Last year he tormented me constantly, but over the summer...we worked things out. I actually have a boyfriend back at home, in Stars Hollow. His name is Dean."

"Dean, huh. Nice?"

"The nicest. We've been going out for a couple of months now...we went out last year too but we kind of had this whole break-up thing that kept us apart for awhile," Rory explains easily, laughing lightly. "Now things are really good."

"If you have a boyfriend then why does Paris insist that you and Tristan are...?"

" One of the world's great many mysteries that will never be unraveled, along with the mystery of how Britney Spears ever sustained a career longer than a year and the disappearance of comedy on Saturday Night Live," Rory quips.

"SNL has gotten a lot better in recent months and the answer to the Britney Spears question is clearly her complete lack of conscience regarding blurring the line between prostitution and entertainment," Tristan explains matter-of-factly as he sits down across from Rory, stepping into the conversation effortlessly. He shoots a smile at Mary and then looks to Rory. He hands her an envelope with Korean symbols on the outside of it. "Henry went back to his locker and got that for Lane. Never seen a guy so excited before."

"Lane will be twice as excited," Rory replies. "And what's with the harsh judgement of Britney Spears? I would've thought you'd enjoy her endless sexual antics."

"I prefer girls with a little more class," Tristan smirks. "Not that I mind seeing her half undressed everywhere I go, because after all, I am a guy, but I have zero respect for someone who does that."

"I can always count on you to surprise me, Tristan." Rory stares at him for a moment and Mary watches the two, still a bit surprised herself over Rory's explanation of their relationship, or lack thereof. Tristan smiles at Rory and leans across the table, taking her granola bar.

"Thanks," he says, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite before she can stop him. She glares at him.

"But then I can always depend on you to do something moronic in the very next instant," she remarks and he just chuckles, slouching back and running one hand through his tousled blond hair. He enjoyed playing with Rory's moods like this. One minute her blue eyes could be serene and beautiful and the next they could be sparking with fire, and twice as gorgeous. He glances away, pretending to wave to someone he knows, buying himself some time to hide how deeply he is affected.

"This is good," Tristan tells her, taking another bite. "Shorty, you want some?" Tristan extends it out to her and she shakes her head no. "All the more for me."

"You're infuriating."

"I try," he says, then leans back forward in his chair, peeking at Rory's pile of notes. "Is this stuff for The Beat?"

"Hopefully," Rory replies, sighing. "It's a little...everywhere right now."

"I'm sure it'll get there. Just let me know what you need me to do."

Rory taps her pen and bites her lip, inwardly debating whether or not to ask him.

"What do you think about you and me doing a kind of...he said, she said type of thing? You know, review an album or a song each week and go back and forth, giving our own perspectives?" Rory watches him for a reaction and at first she can't tell one way or the other. "Maybe not. It's a little stupid...too cliché? I thought so too. It's been done."

"I think it's a good idea. It could work really well," Tristan suddenly responds after a moment of pondering. Rory looks at him, meeting his gaze. She blinks as if startled.

"You really think so?" Rory's voice wavers. His eyes seem electrifyingly blue and his skin looks irresistible to touch. Rory can feel her face flushing and she quickly distracts herself by taking another sip of her drink. The last thing she ever needed to do was let herself become attracted to Tristan DuGrey. Deciding it was just a fleeting moment of hormonal weakness, Rory quickly proceeds, not wanting the feeling to hang in her body. "I wasn't sure and it was just an idea I had; if you have anything better, I'd love to hear it."

"No, the He Said She Said thing could be interesting. We should try it."

"All right..." Rory smiles, a bit relieved that the moment passed. She turns to Mary. "And then if you want to write a column each week, about whatever you want, really...I'll run a poll around school about certain music, singers, opinions, etc., and we can put that in every week...Lane will have a column and I know she'll never run out of music to talk about..."

"We can print information about concerts coming to Hartford, local bands playing in the clubs downtown, CD and singles release dates, new bands to look out for..." Tristan suggests, his voice growing in excitement. "I think it's all going to come together, Ror."

"We can even have other students write in letters to the editor each week, you know, with their reactions to our reviews, what they thought of concerts that they went to, things like that. Hopefully we can make everyone feel involved," Rory grins widely.

"This is going to be really great, I can just see it now," Mary tells them both. "Paris is going to kick herself for ever daring to mess with you." At this, everyone smiles. Tristan nods at Rory.

"She's really going to regret not involving you in the newspaper. But her loss is the rest of the world's gain, right?" Tristan says. "This is going to win you tons of points with Harvard, more so than any reporting job about janitorial and construction improvements at Chilton."

"And it's going to be so much more fun," Rory adds happily. "Though I feel bad because I'm sure now the excellent re-pavement job of the school parking lot is going to go unheralded."

"We can add a blurb about it in the first edition," Tristan smirks. "Paris will love that."

"Do you want us to get together and work on this as one or is this going to be a deadline kind of operation?" Mary asks, actually getting out her day planner and a pen and opening it to the notes section.

"I think that this week I'd really like us all to work together...cause I certainly don't have the faintest idea what I'm doing. Since we're all going to be working a lot on this I'd like your input on how it is organized, the format, everything. But after all of that gets settled I think the process will run more smoothly and we can change to a less demanding deadline schedule. We just have to find the rhythm and settle into it first, that's all."

"When you talk like that, it really makes me disbelieve your statement that you don't know what you're doing," Tristan remarks, stealing a sip from her drink and setting it back down in front of her.

"I must be getting better at putting up a knowledgeable front then," Rory states. "I should become a teacher. Half the time they don't really know what's going on."

"Unless you're Mr. Redmann, in which case you have every aspect of every certain thing worked out to the very last miniscule detail," Tristan laughs, rolling his eyes. Mary groans.

"Oh god, is he bad? I have him last period."

Tristan and Rory exchange knowing looks.

"Shorty, you're going to wish with all of your heart and soul that you'd never set foot in Chilton Academy."

* * *

"Guess who's here for lunch?" Lorelai calls as she plops down, her purse hitting the counter with a thud. She peeks over the counter, looking for Luke.

"The Queen of England?" Luke's voice comes from the back room and Lorelai laughs.

"Oh dear, you've got me now, you silly willy nilly. The big pearls, white gloves and terrible hat with veil must have given me away. I must talk to the staff at the Palace about finding me more suitable attire for my incognito pursuits," Lorelai replies in an overdone, haughty English accent. Luke doesn't reply right away so Lorelai glances around at the other customers as if plotting an evil deed, then circles the counter and disappears into the backroom. Luke is lifting a box down from the top shelf and as he sets it done on the ground, Lorelai stops and smiles. Lifting her hand, she gives him a royal wave.

"What are you doing with your hand?"

"Giving you the royal treatment. I've been practicing that for years. I think it's quite good. All I need is a motorcar and a really ugly outfit with really big ugly buttons on it and I'm Buckingham Palace bound, baby."

"You need to work on the accent," Luke informs her and she waves him off with a snort.

"You don't know a good accent when you hear one, Luke Danes."

"Apparently neither do you," he retorts as she steps toward him. She grimaces and then frowns deeply, mocking like she's hurt. Luke rolls his eyes. "But I don't think British accents are all that great to begin with, so maybe I'm biased." Lorelai smiles, almost in wonderment.

"Wow, Luke. I think that's the first time I've ever been able to get you undermine one of your own insults on purpose. You really like me! You really, really like me!" She cries out, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"I take it back. Your accent plain old stinks, bias or no bias. It's so bad that even extensive tutoring by Gwyneth Paltrow on faking a better one would be of absolutely no help to you." Luke makes a final gesture with his hand and Lorelai just smirks.

"I never pegged you as a Gwyneth aficionado." Lorelai stares at him, hard, for a moment, contemplating it. "But I guess I can see that about you. I can picture it now...sneaking into the theatre to see Emma and Shakespeare in Love...hiding in the back row as you drooled into your popcorn bucket..."

"Ah...not really my type, actually," Luke says off-handedly, adjusting his baseball cap and turning back to the shelves. Lorelai walks up behind him and sneaks her arms around his waist, smoothing her hands up his chest and pulling him back toward her.

"You have a type? What would that be? Gimme a hint. Tall, short, blonde, brunette..."

"You," Luke tells her, smiling gently as Lorelai stands on tiptoe to lean her head over his shoulder and kiss him on the side of his face.

"You may be a man of few words, Luke Danes, but boy can you choose 'em," she laughs. He turns around and faces her.

"You're going to have a really bad affect on me, I'm beginning to fear this," Luke murmurs.

"Why is that?" Lorelai questions.

"First off this whole thing is making me feel happy and as we both know, we can't have that."

"No, certainly not," Lorelai states with a heavy frown which is quickly reversed into a grin.

"Secondly whenever you're around you prohibit me from doing any of the work I am supposed to be doing."

"You'd rather go back to stocking your salt shakers? More power to ya," Lorelai says. "But somehow I don't think you mind all that much." She glances around the stock room as if searching for something. "In fact, who was that guy who suggested I come here for lunch instead of staying at the Inn? I think it was the same guy I woke up next to this morning...he didn't seem to mind the idea of fun either...gosh, who was that?" Lorelai looks back at Luke, a look of surprise on her face. "Oh my god, wait...wait...it was you! How about that." Luke grunts in response and Lorelai sticks her tongue out at him.

"If you stick your tongue out at me again, I'm going to have to..." Luke stops, not having any ideas.

"You're going to what?"

"I...I'm going to..."

"You don't know."

"Ah, so what."

"I have an idea though," Lorelai grins and leans toward him, engaging him in a heated open-mouthed kiss. Luke lifts her up and sets her on the table in the centre of the small room, clearly agreeing with her suggestion. They kiss passionately for a few minutes, their hands travelling eagerly over one another's bodies. Lorelai takes a pause for breath but pulls Luke back to her within seconds. Neither of them notice the table starting to creak until they hit the floor amidst the loud clanging of metal and the clashing of wood against concrete. Luke falls on top of Lorelai, who is laying face up on top of the collapsed table.

"What in the world was that racket?" Taylor's voice precedes him, his nosy person appearing in the doorway shortly after. Kirk pops in right behind him.

"What is going on here?" Kirk asks, quickly reaching into his shoulder bag for something. Luke and Lorelai look up at the two men in the doorway, still a bit jarred from their sudden fall.

"In a storage room? Lorelai, I really expected better from you. What an example to set for Rory! My goodness," Taylor shakes his head sadly, as if he had witnessed Lorelai doing hard drugs and asking Rory to partake. "And Luke...is this any to run a business? You have people waiting to be served out here! Which includes me, mind you." A bright flash blinds Luke and Lorelai temporarily.

"What in the world...?" Luke mumbles, slowly climbing off of Lorelai and offering her a hand to help her up. "What was that?"

"I'm just thanking my lucky stars that I put my camera in my bag this morning," Kirk smirks at Luke, his voice dripping with smugness. "That was a wonderful photo opportunity."

"Kirk, you are unbelievable," Lorelai groans, brushing some dust off of the back of her jeans. "One of these days someone is going to rip that thing from your hands and crush it into a million pieces and I hope I'm there to see it and laugh, laugh, laugh, at you, you sad little man."

"I don't think you're in any position to judge, Lorelai," Kirk retorts and Luke steps between the two before Lorelai swatted Kirk upside the head.

"The details of these shenanigans are going to be all over town in no time. Rory is going to hear about this and she's going to be very upset."

"Shenanigans? Taylor, making out in a private area with my boyfriend does not fall under shenanigans. Zaniness, maybe, but shenanigans involve things of a more mischievous nature. Like what I'm plotting in my head to do to you right now. And as for Rory, she's fully aware of mine and Luke's relationship and she's fine with it. And besides, if you are so concerned for Rory, why would you spread it around town?"

"These things spread of their own volition, Lorelai, it's not like Kirk and I were the only one who could hear you two," Taylor replies and Lorelai groans in frustration. Kirk snaps another picture and Luke steps toward him menacingly.

"You do that one more time and I swear-"

Kirk backs up and then dashes out of view. Taylor throws up his hands in defeat and huffs away, leaving Lorelai and Luke alone once more.

"Please remind me why I live in this town," Lorelai remarks, annoyed.

"I have no clue. It is beyond me."

"Can you believe him? He acts like he's my father, like he's catching me doing something naughty. Which I wasn't," Lorelai says, then giggles. "Not yet, anyway."

"I think Taylor just has some kind of paternal complex, trying to make every person in this town his own kid or something. Makes me crazy," Luke mutters and Lorelai nods.

"Maybe we should get the town together and hire him a shrink."

"Good idea."

Lorelai glances down at the broken table and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh.

"I can't believe I broke your table."

"It was fallin' apart anyway, you didn't break anything. Besides, even if you did, it wasn't exactly like you were the lone assailant of the table in this matter."

"That is true," Lorelai nods, nudging his side with her hip. "We double teamed that sucker and brought it down before it knew what hit him."

"Him?"

"Yeah, him. It was a him, anyway. Phillip."

"Phillip."

"I think that since we killed him we could at least honor him with a real name," Lorelai says as if she can't believe she has to explain it.

"And you choose Phillip."

"I like the name Phillip."

"You are so strange."

"Can I have that lunch now?"

"You kill Phillip and now you want lunch? Boy are you callous," Luke smirks.

"I thought we already agreed to share blame!"

"But you're the one who went ahead and gave it a name and made it into an actual victim."

"Lunch? And coffee. Yummy coffee." Lorelai walks back out behind the counter and then lifts herself up to sit on the counter. Luke eyes her wearily.

"Watch out, you're going to murder that too."

"I better name him then. He's Albert. I'll stick with the British monarchy theme for today. It seems to be working."

"I wouldn't call that working. Phillip is dead."

"Your toaster's name can be Charles, and the mustard is William and the ketchup is Harry. No. The ketchup is William because it's a taller bottle."

"You really expect me to give you coffee when you're already naming inanimate objects after useless figureheads of the old British government?" Luke inquires, sceptical. Lorelai grabs a mug and extends it out to him.

"Coffeeeeeeeeee...or the pots and pans are getting names too. The matching ones can be Elizabeth the 1st and 2nd...your knife is Henry the VIII..." Luke fills up Lorelai's mug, sighing. Lorelai raises one hand in triumph while she uses the other to lift the mug full of delicious brew to her lips. After a sip and a moment of silence, another thought occurs to her. "Oh! And all of your bowls can be Camilla Parker Bow-"

"Don't even finish that sentence." Luke covers her mouth, shaking his head adamantly. Lorelai smiles against the pressure of his hand. Luke suddenly jumps away from her, pulling his hand away from her face. "Ew! Ew, god, Lorelai, did you just lick my hand?" He exclaims. Lorelai laughs at him as he goes to the sink to wash his hands. "Seriously, you would make so many good friends in kindergarten."

"They say all you need to know about life you learn in kindergarten, so I guess I'm set," she responds, swinging her legs in the air as they dangle off off the counter. Luke turns back to her, about to make another witty remark when he stops himself, knowing it will only start another cycle and Lorelai will never order her lunch.

"You have to be back at work in twenty minutes, Lor...what would you like to eat?" He asks, guessing the answer will be the same as always.

"Um...let me think..." She is silent for a moment. "A hamburger?"

"You live so dangerously."

"I get my kicks from other things. Like breaking tables."

"One burger coming right up."

"Thanks," she says, watching as he disappears into the freezer to get the frozen patty. Smiling, Lorelai looks around the diner, deciding that she liked this side of the counter very much.

* * *

"Hey, Mary."

"Hey...Jude." Rory stumbles for a name to use in reply but comes up short. Tristan chuckles as he drapes his arm over her open locker and leans against it nonchalantly.

"Jude, huh?" He acts impressed. "That's not too bad...at least it's a good song."

"I was thinking it was more of a...I don't know...shortened form of Judas?" Rory retorts with a smirk. "I figure we should stick with the Bible sources."

"Indeed. Judas it is," Tristan replies and lets it go without further comment, much to Rory's surprise. "So, did you survive your first day at Chilton unscathed?" She glances at him with a shrug.

"Mostly so. Though I still have the walk to the bus, so you can't be quite sure I'm in the clear just yet." She zips up her backpack and Tristan shuts her locker for her.

"Want me to drive you home?" He offers.

"All the way out to Stars Hollow?" Rory asks, shaking her head. "There's really no need, Tristan. The bus is perfectly fine."

"What can I say...I'm a gentleman."

"Perhaps you should be tested for schizophrenia because you're delusions of grandeur are getting progressively worse and worse," Rory comments as they head down the hallway toward the main exit of the building. "Next thing I know you're going to be telling me you're a world-class hero or the President of the United States."

"I don't know about that one. I wouldn't want to be President," Tristan says. "I don't get the appeal. Sure, you're the most powerful person in the free world today, but really. Who needs all that stress?"

"I don't think it'd be a good career choice for me either," Rory agrees. "I guess we don't have to worry about planning those upscale campaigns then."

"I'll fire the managers tonight," Tristan pretends to write it down on an imaginary notebook in his hand. They walk outside into the bright afternoon sunlight and both of them stop, squinting. Tristan immediately takes off his blazer and tie, unbuttoning the first three buttons of his shirt.

"Sure still feels like summer. Maybe this is all a huge mistake and they sent us back to school early. You think that's a possibility?"

"Um...if only," Tristan sighs. "You sure you don't want a ride home?" Tristan bites his lip after asking the question, wishing he hadn't asked it. Could he be more obvious and overeager? Rory surveys the parking lot to make sure her bus is still waiting and then shakes her head no.

"Thanks, but the bus is here and everything. It's not a problem. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See ya," Tristan waves as he backs away from her and then turns to walk to his car. Rory watches him go, almost feeling sorry that she hadn't accepted his offer. The bus ride home was all right, but almost certainly boring. Any time spent with Tristan brought a number of adjectives to mind - boring was never one of them. Tristan doesn't look back at her as he digs his keys from his pocket and points the remote at his car, his headlights flashing twice. "She must think I'm a complete idiot," Tristan thinks to himself, shaking his head in dismay over his own behavior as he climbs inside his Camaro.

Rory stops just before getting onto the bus, glancing back toward the parking lot as Tristan pulls out of his parking spot and speeds away. He drives right past the bus and Rory holds up her hand expectantly to wave at him, but he seems distracted and doesn't even notice her standing there. Feeling foolish, she lowers her hand quickly and walks up the steps, murmuring a polite hello to the bus driver before taking her seat.

The ride home is uneventful as always, the big bus littered with the usual mid-afternoon crowd of senior citizens and the few other Chilton students who didn't live in Hartford. Rory simply put on her headphones, buried herself in Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay and before she knew it, she was home. Hurriedly packing her CD player back into her over-stuffed backpack, she clambers off of the bus expectantly, knowing that someone, either her mother, Lane or Dean would probably be waiting there for her.

"And it's door number two," Rory grins as Lane hops up from the wooden bench with a smile. "Hey. How was your first day back?"

"Oh, the usual. Boring classes, no cute boys, and enough newly dyed blonde hairdos to make Christina Aguilera sick."

"Wow, if it'd make her sick..."

"The entire cheerleading squad, JV and Varsity, have their hair dyed the exact same shade. It's a sea of Barbie blonde," Lane explains with disgust. Rory screws up her face as well, glad she didn't have to witness it.

" Sounds like a whole lot of fun."

"Let me tell you, it was. How was your day? Did Paris put you through her Reign of Terror?"

"Robespierre should've been there to take notes," Rory sighs. "I did meet a really nice girl, though, who just transferred to Chilton. She's going to work on the paper with me, you, and Tristan. Her name's Mary." They cross the street and head toward Luke's.

"It's actually Mary, or do you now partake in the biblical name calling seeing as how you're a seasoned Chilton veteran?"

"It's actually Mary. Though Tristan is calling her Shorty and still calling me Mary."

"You just can't win with that boy, can you?" Lane asks with a wink in her voice. Rory gives her a warning look, stopping the clever add-on that she's sure Lane was about to tack onto the sentence. She changes conversational direction. "Did you see Henry?"

"He's in my fifth period class," Rory informs her. "He says that he really wants to see you, he gave me a letter to give you, and he says that if you happen to be at the Chilton bake sale this weekend, he'll see you there."

"You have a letter for me? Where is it? Are you going to the bake sale? Cause I can't really go without you. That would be lame." The words come out of Lane's mouth at a rapid fire pace as she starts to jump up and down with excitement, her hands outstretched and eagerly waiting for the letter. Rory stops and sets her backpack down on the sidewalk, opening up the front pocket and digging out a somewhat rumpled envelope.

"Sorry it's a bit squished. Fitting my entire locker in my bag was not an easy task today."

"You should get a Mary Poppins bag," Lane comments as she rips open the envelope, pulls out the letter and begins reading. They start walking again. "Just let me know if I'm going to walk into someone or something."

"I will," Rory giggles as Lane frantically pours over Henry's words, reading it once through and then beginning again. "Lane, watch out," Rory warns as they approach Luke's and Lane steps sideways without even looking up, narrowly avoiding a garbage can.

"This is so sweet!" Lane finally says, a smile spreading across her face. "Do you think this qualifies as a love letter? I've never gotten a love letter before."

"Does he compare your smile to the summer sun and call your hair a sea of shimmering raven black? Are there horrible metaphors and mushy words of how much he misses you involved?" Rory inquires and Lane looks down at the letter.

"Uh, I don't know about the sea thing but I guess everything else applies," Lane tells Rory.

"Then it's a love letter."

"Excellent! This is amazing. Should I write him back, do you think? Or is that not done?" Lane follows Rory inside of Luke's, tugging on her best friend's sleeve. "I know it's okay for the guy to write a love letter, but if a girl does it...is that too bold? Is that needy? Clingy? Because the standards are different for guys and girls. If guys do it, it's romantic...if girls do it, it's just sappy and girly and guys don't like that. Do they?" Rory sits down and turns to Lane, stilling her wayward hands as she gestures wildly.

"Lane. Just write him back, I don't think he's going to read too much into the stereotypical gender roles of a relationship. He's sixteen."

"Seventeen. He turned seventeen in August."

"Well then he's even more unlikely to care about what girls and guys are supposed to do. That clarity comes with maturity," Rory explains and Lane finally sits down, looking at her friend questioningly.

" Isn't this supposed to be me, advising you? That's usually how it works." Lane jokingly points an accusatory finger at Rory. "You've been reading my Cosmo subscriptions, haven't you?"

"No, usually when the issues come my mom steals it and reads it before I hand it over to you. I just bemoan the fact that the mailman probably thinks I read such horrible magazines."

"You can tell him the next time he comes that you're just getting it for me, because my mother is a psychopath who won't let me read it."

"Oh, I've already told him that."

"Then why are you whining?" Lane complains and Rory laughs outright. Lane frowns at her own self-inflicted irony.

"I don't think he believes me. He always looks at me like I'm the biggest liar in the entire world," Rory replies, still smiling.

"I apologize for making the U.S. postal service think you read anything that has pictures in it," Lane bows her head to Rory in mock ashamedness. Rory pokes her and Lane finally takes a seat next to her. Rory glances around, finally noticing that Luke is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Luke?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," Lane agrees, looking around as well.

"I'm right here," Luke grunts as he emerges from the back room, looking a little rumpled. The phone rings as Rory opens her mouth to speak and Luke holds a finger up to her. "Just a minute, Ror, let me grab that." He picks it up and before he can even say hello, a voice can be heard coming very loudly out of the phone.

"Where is Lorelai? She left the Inn three hours ago and has not been back since. And yet while I love the silence and serenity that her absence brings, taking care of the large amount of work that she has left behind is not something I do enjoy. So if she is there, playing cute in your dirty little diner, I would like you to either put her on the phone or tell her to come back to the Inn immediately before I set fire to the curtains and kill our customers."

"Luke?" Lorelai's voice comes from the back room.

"She's not here," Luke tells Michel, smirking. "She left hours ago."

"That is what you said an hour ago when I called. I know you are lying to me, I am not stupid."

"Is that Michel again?" Lorelai asks, hobbling into the diner, trying to put one of her high heels back on. Lane and Rory exchange surprised but amused looks and wait for Lorelai to realize that her daughter is present.

"I heard Lorelai's voice. She is there, I knew it!" Michel exclaims into the phone.

"She is not here, Michel." Luke signals for Lorelai to shut up. Lorelai makes a face at him and then turns away, stopping in her tracks when she sees Rory and Lane watching her expectantly.

"You lie! I will get you for this, ugly diner man with your horrid plaid shirts!"

Luke rolls his eyes as the dial tone buzzes loudly in his ear and hangs up the phone.

"Hello, Rory. Lane," Lorelai greets them as she circles the counter and takes a seat, trying to act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Rory smiles knowingly, fully prepared to get as much mileage out of this as she can.

"Why aren't you at work, Mom?" Rory asks innocently. Lorelai runs her hand through her hair and looks down at the counter.

"Oh, just taking a break. Came to get some lunch, you know, the usual."

"You eat lunch at three o'clock...in the storage room?" Lane inquires, pretending to be honestly confused.

"I...happen to like the storage room. Has a nice homey feel to it."

"Why is Luke lying to Michel? He sounded really mad," Rory chimes in. Lorelai glances at Luke, who just looks on, amused by the whole situation. Lorelai scowls.

"I broke my high heel," she says in exasperation and Rory looks down at her feet.

" No you didn't...and where did that come from?"

"I was in the back room because Luke was fixing it for me. The shoe. So I could walk back to work."

"It took him all afternoon to fix your shoe?"

"I work very meticulously and slowly," Luke cuts in. "It's hard to fix a shoe and we wouldn't want it happening again, you know."

"I could fall and break my ankle," Lorelai adds. "Or worse, I could fall and crush a small animal."

"Like a dog."

"Or a squirrel." Luke and Lorelai are met with clearly disbelieving looks from both teens.

"Do you two want some coffee?" Luke diverts their attention, knowing he and Lorelai are losing the battle.

"And an order of mozzarella sticks, please," Lane replies and Luke raises an eyebrow in dismay. "No commentary on the combination of coffee with mozzarella sticks, please."

"I give up on all of you," Luke shakes his head and goes to prepare their order. Rory and Lane both whip their heads in Lorelai's direction.

"What?" She acts surprised by the attention.

"Please tell me that what I think went on in that storage room did not go on," Rory pleads.

"No," Lorelai scoffs. "Not that it would be any of your business if it did, young lady."

"Mom."

"Okay, so it would at least be partially your business because I don't like to keep anything from you, but you definitely would not get the full and honest truth. That's just a place I will not go with my teenage daughter."

"Just answer me this. Did anything even remotely harmful really happen to your shoe? In any way?"

"That was a complete lie."

"I thought so."

"I must really get back to the Inn before Michel goes beserk and strangles someone with his outrageously expensive necktie. Tell Luke I said good-bye for me, would ya?"

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

"Cause then I would never get back to the Inn," Lorelai quips and Rory groans.

"I thought you said that was a place you wouldn't go to with me!"

"What did I say?" Lorelai laughs. "You have a dirty, dirty mind," she waggles her finger in Rory's face and then turns and heads for the door. "Meet me at home for pizza at six? I want to hear all about your first day!" She opens the door and turns back around to face Rory, smiling. "And of course, I want to hear all about-"

"Don't say it-"

"Newspaper Tristan," she finishes and then skitters away.

"Why does she always feel the need to place something before his name?" Rory asks Lane. "She finally dropped the Evil Tristan, then it was U2 ticket Tristan, and now it's Newspaper Tristan. I don't get why he needs an epithet."

"Because it's fun and highly entertaining."

"Ah." Two cups of coffee and a plate of mozzarella sticks are set down on the counter and Rory smiles happily, breathing in the heavenly aroma. "Ahhhh. Coffee."

"That was fast," Lane observes, looking up at Luke.

"Well, somebody had already ordered some of those before you came in so I gave you theirs. They can wait an extra few minutes while I heat a new batch." Luke explains off-handedly.

"You're just too nice to us. You and mom really should've started these mid-day makeouts a long time ago," Rory says just as casually and Luke looks surprised.

"Yeah, well..."

"Just a word to the wise, though, you should learn how to fix a high heel for real some time soon, cause she really does tend to break them a lot."

"Thanks for the advice," Luke replies with a half-smile and then he walks away, going back to the kitchen. Lane turns her attention to Rory.

"So for the paper...what exactly do you want me to do?"

"I don't know...write a column. Write down all of the stuff you tell me about your latest bands, what music you hate...you know...just be you. You're good at that."

"At being me? Who else would I be?"

"Cher?"

"I would never be Cher."

"Sonny?"

"I'd rather be Bono than Sonny Bono, thanks all the same."

"You'd like to be a forty-something year old Irish man?"

"Better than being a comic punching bag of the sixties turned senator who is now deceased."

"You got me there."

"So you just want me to write about what I like and dislike. New bands I'm into, cds I've recently bought..."

"Exactly. Mary's going to do the same thing, and Tristan and I are going to review a cd each week in a kind of debate between the sexes."

"You and Tristan are working together, huh?"

"Yes." Rory replies, somewhat tightly.

"You could've told him to write a column of his own yet you asked him to work with you. It was you who had the idea, right?"

"I fail to see your point..." Rory mumbles. She takes a mozzarella stick from the plate and looks at it for a moment before taking a bite.

"Are you ever going to tell Dean that Tristan is your friend?" Lane asks suddenly breaking the silence that had fallen. "I really foresee this entire thing blowing up in your face if you don't bite the bullet right now."

"I don't know how to tell him without having him get angry."

"Ror, he's going to get angry no matter what. He's jealous of Tristan, that's how it is. But think about it...if you wait to tell him until after you've been hanging with Tristan for months and months, it's going to be like you were hiding it from him, sneaking around. And that's no way to instil trust."

"I see we're back to the you giving advice to me scenario."

"Well I'm just too good at it to let the opportunity pass by."

"You think I should tell him tonight?"

"The sooner the better, I think," Lane states, then takes a bite of the cheese stick in her hand. The hot cheese melts out and she struggles with it for a moment, causing both of them to giggle. "This is not working," she mumbles as she pulls the string of cheese apart.

"I don't recommend ordering these when you're out with Henry," Rory advises. "It's not very flattering."

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

"So this new girl really seems like she could be a friend, huh?" Lorelai asks, wedging the entire pizza box into the fridge as Rory puts their empty glasses into the dishwasher. Rory nods.

"She's really nice. As long as she doesn't have an evil person she's hiding underneath, I think I may finally have found someone to hang with at Chilton."

"You already have Tristan, don't forget."

"You won't let me," Rory retorts. "Tristan was actually really great today, though. I was worried that once we got back to school, something would change, but I think it's only gotten better."

"And only after one day, you're singing his praises," Lorelai says, sitting back down at the table and looking up at her daughter. "Imagine after a week. There will be a shrine to Tristan in our living room."

"I was only saying that he surprised me, that's all. No need to make a big deal out of it."

"I'm not making a big deal. Just reminding you that finding this Mary shouldn't mean that Tristan is suddenly expendable. I think you two have potential to be really good-"

"Don't say it."

"I was only going to say friends. You have to stop cutting me off."

"I do so for my own mental health."

" Honey, if you haven't lost your mind by now I think it's safe to say it has a pretty good sense of direction. In fact, I could blindfold your sanity, spin it around ten times and it could still pin the tail on the donkey."

"What?"

"And use the bat to break the piñata."

"I think my gene pool is contaminated," Rory tells her mother sadly.

"Well I'm sure your mental health will have no trouble finding a pool boy to clean it. Just make sure to hire a cute one."

"I'll make sure to tell Senora Sanity to put that qualification in the job ad."

"Your sanity is Spanish?"

"Mexican...with all these donkeys and piñatas, I figured she had to be," Rory shrugs. The doorbell rings and Lorelai looks at her daughter questioningly.

"You expecting anyone? Could be the INS...does your sanity have its papers in order?"

"It's probably Dean," Rory explains and goes to answer it. Lorelai follows her. "See, Dean." She states, glancing back over the shoulder at Lorelai as she pokes her head into the foyer.

"Any chance you could bust in here and deport Rory's mental well being?" Lorelai asks him and he looks at her in confusion. "Oh, never mind."0

"Long story," Rory tells him as she steps back to let him inside.

"Rory's no fun as long as she continues this charade of competence and rationality," Lorelai informs Dean. "I've been trying to convince her to come to the dark side. Lunacy is most enjoyable but I guess I'm just going to have to partake its benefits all alone. I shall be in the living room, watching Gilligan's Island if you need me." She dashes into the living room, leaving Dean and Rory alone.

"She's...wound up."

"That's an underestimation." Rory leads the way to her bedroom where Dean plops down on her bed and she sits down at her desk. "She's still on this post-getting-together-with-Luke high that I'm not quite sure is going to end."

"Well that's good, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Rory smiles, stopping and realizing for the first time that it truly is. Her mom hadn't been this giddy and happy in a very long time, and Luke had never smiled so much before in his life.

"So..." Dean starts, gazing at her. "The first day back."

"That it was," she replies, moving around slightly in her chair, trying to get comfortable. "How was everything?"

"Schoolish. Eraser dust, beat up textbooks, boring classes, eccentric teachers...the usual. You?"

"It went okay," Rory wavers, moving her eyes from his.

" Just okay?" Dean inquires, leaning toward her, misreading her behavior as signs that something went badly. "Paris and Tristan bothering you?"

"Paris was mean...but no more mean than anytime before..." Rory shrugs, standing up and walking to her CD player, quickly changing the subject. "What do you want to listen to?" Dean stands up and walks up behind her, looking at her large CD collection. She pops open the lid of her stereo and takes out the disc inside of it.

"Oasis?" Dean chuckles. "I thought you hated them."

"They're growing on me," Rory says a bit awkwardly. "I just thought I'd give it another chance."

"Why the sudden open-mindedness?"

"No reason..."

"Does this mean I can get you to listen to P.O.D.?"

"I don't know if I'm that open-minded yet."

"Limp Biskit?"

"Perhaps. If you agree to give James Taylor another chance." Rory holds up the cd case for his greatest hits album.

"Elevator music," he remarks, though good-naturedly. Rory looks crestfallen and sets the CD back down slowly as Dean continues to scan her collection. "Who are _The Tragically Hip_?"

"Oh, they're really great. You want to listen to it?" She opens up the case as he hands it to her.

"Sure..." He agrees, hesitant. "Why not?" They sit back down on the bed next to each other as the first track begins to play. "So how were your classes?"

"Interesting. My Lit teacher is going to be really harsh this year, which sucks because I was really looking forward to that class."

"He's a jerk?"

"Not sure yet...he may just be strict."

"What are you reading?"

"Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, by James Joyce."

"I've never heard of it...doesn't sound like too much fun. We have to read A Man for All Seasons."

"That's excellent," Rory grins. "You'll like it."

"Maybe...doesn't seem too good so far, though." Rory can hear the phone ring from out in the kitchen and waits to see if her mom will get it.

"Salute Your Shorts is on Nickelodeon, I'm riveted!" Comes the call from the living room and Rory knows that Lorelai is not moving. She manages to pick it up just before the machine does.

"Hello?"

"Mary."

"Judas."

"You busy?"

"Kind of."

"Can I steal you for a minute?"

"Depends on what you want to talk about."

"I was just wondering if you wanted to work on the He Said She Said tomorrow after school," Tristan says. Rory smiles into the phone, hearing him drumming his fingers against something.

"Trying out for the rhythm section in marching band?"

"Too much caffeine," he replies without a beat. It is so hard to catch him off-guard, Rory thinks to herself.

"You should cut back then."

Tristan raises an eyebrow at that comment. "Look who's talking."

Rory smiles. "Bad movie. The sequels were even worse."

"Didn't see them."

"Don't."

Tristan nods and then stops himself realising Rory can't actually see him. "I file that away in my 'Useless Information Provided by Rory' notebook."

"It's not useless."

Tristan smiles. "'Fraid it is, Rory."

"No information is useless."

"All right then, miscellaneous."

"That I can live with," Rory concedes. "So, the paper."

"Is tomorrow okay?"

"Tomorrow's good."

"School, your house, or mine?" Rory ponders Tristan's question for a moment. "This isn't Jeopardy."

"Shut up. I was thinking. Can we come here? I'm supposed to field the weekly Henry-Lane phone call."

"Sounds good. I can drive us there right after school," Tristan offers.

"It's a plan."

"All right. I'll let you get back to Dean," Tristan says with a smirk in his voice.

"How do you know he's here?"

"Well isn't he?"

"Yes." Rory admits reluctantly.

"It was an educated guess."

"See you tomorrow, Jude."

"Yep." Tristan hangs up abruptly and Rory stares at the receiver for a moment, then hangs it up and goes back to her room.

"Who was that?" Dean asks as she sits back down next to him.

"Just someone from school about a project," Rory explains, inwardly debating whether or not to take Lane's advice and just tell him about Tristan.

"You're assigned a project already? They don't waste any time, do they?"

And the window of opportunity closed. Rory decides to let the moment of truth slide until another day.

"No, they don't," Rory smiles thinly, at a loss for anything else to say. Lorelai appears in her doorway at that moment, much to Rory's relief.

"Guys! You'll never believe what they're playing on TV right now!"

"Some kind of Law & Order spin-off?" Rory guesses.

"Good guess, but no. The Evil Dead! Best B-movie ever! You have to come watch."

"I thought you were watching Salute Your Shorts."

"I flipped during commercials and got distracted."

"We'll be right there."

"Okay, hurry! The best scene is coming up!"

"You want to go watch?" Rory looks to Dean, hoping that he'd say no.

"You bet. That movie is great," Dean laughs lightly. "I don't think your mom is going to give us a choice, anyway."

"True."

Turning off the music, Rory and Dean head out into the living room to join Lorelai.

* * *

"Is it just me, or does this whole stream of consciousness thing really bite?" Tristan asks as he climbs in the driver's side, tossing his backpack carelessly into the backseat.

"It might not be so bad if Mr. Redmann wasn't teaching it," Rory points out as she buckles herself into the passenger's side. He starts the car, revving the engine twice. "That can wreck your engine, you know," she tells him and she is met with a shrug.

"Never pegged you as a car aficionado."

"I'm really not. Dean told me that once," Rory admits.

"Dean's into cars?"

"Yeah...he's actually building me one. Can you believe that?"

"Somehow I can," Tristan mutters, revving the engine again to annoy her. Hitting play on his CD player before backing out of the parking space, Slick Shoe's "Angel" begins blasting loudly. Rory winces and Tristan chuckles lightly. "Sorry. I always forget to turn it down before I get out of the car."

"Do you think music really sounds better when it shatters your eardrums?"

"Wow, you sounded just like my father," Tristan tells her and she rolls her eyes.

" I'm not giving a lecture about auditory safety, it was a serious question delivered with a small bit of sarcasm."

"Well then, I guess it depends on the song. I don't particularly think that listening to Phil Collins at volume 10 is going to give anyone thrills, but sometimes," Tristan pauses, glancing sideways at her before continuing.

"Sometimes what?" Rory prompts. He turns his attention back to the road, slowing to a stop as the light before them turns red.

"Sometimes when you find a song that you really like, playing it loud just helps you feel it. You know, it vibrates your entire body. You've never pumped up a song you like and just sat there, listening to it, letting it just run through you?"

"Of course I have."

"Then you really didn't need to ask that question, did you?"

"I guess I didn't," Rory smiles wistfully, somewhat moved by Tristan's answer. They look at one another for a moment, locked into each other's gaze, until a loud horn sounds from behind them. Rory laughs nervously. "Light's green." Tristan shifts his eyes back to the road, hitting the gas, the faintest blush creeping across his tanned cheeks.

"So, where do I go after I get on the interstate?" Tristan inquires.

"My guess would be straight," Rory smirks and Tristan sighs overdramatically.

"I knew that, I meant what exit am I looking for?"

"12. Do you mind if I put a different cd in?"

"You don't like this?"

"It's not that. I've just had the same song stuck in my head all day but I can't remember the words, so I'd like to just listen to it so I at least can drive myself insane with the right lyrics."

"And then I can get the song stuck in my head as well."

"That's my plan, yes. If I'm going down, I'm dragging you with me."

"Then by all means, pop it in. What is it?"

"The Moffats, Submodalities."

"Put on 'Just Another Phase,' I like that one. Don't put on-"

"'Walking Behind'?" Rory finishes. "Sorry, that happens to be the song that's plaguing me."

"You're mean."

"It must have rubbed off on me from hanging out with you."

"Oo, ouch. Every day your insults just grow more cutting. Right to the bone, Mary," Tristan shoots back, merging off onto the exit ramp.

"Just keep an eye out for Monty, smartass," Rory tells him.

"Monty as in Python?" Tristan says, jerking her around.

"No."

"As in Full?"

"As in a giant rooster statue."

"Oh, well that was my next guess," Tristan retorts as if it should've been the obvious answer. "I was between that and some kind of farmer who sold rotten fruit by the roadside."

"No, that guy's name is Bob."

"Oh." Tristan pauses. "I was only kidding."

"I'm not. Though you really have more of a 50/50 chance of getting decent vegetables from Bob. They're not all bad."

"Good to know. I'll make sure to check next time I'm driving you home and I feel the need to gamble on the freshness of produce."

Fifteen minutes later, Tristan pulls to a stop in front of Rory's house.

"And here we are, at the humble abode of Rory Gilmore."

"And her crazy mother, don't forget."

"Don't think I ever could," Tristan grins. "Am I safe to assume that you'll be having coffee and some kind of sugar before we get any work done?"

"Of course," Rory replies. "I made sure we had plenty of both in the house last night. I figured working with you would require extensive amounts of caffeine to dull the pain."

"Why, thank you," Tristan remarks, climbing out of the car and circling to open Rory's door for her. She's already out by the time he reaches her. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she shuts the car door and gestures toward the house.

"Mom, are you home?" Rory calls as she opens the front door, fully prepared for an assault of hyper-activity. She had been excited to find out that Tristan would be coming over after school and Rory expected her to leave work early just to maximize her harassment time. But the house is silent. She moves into the foyer and drops her bag to the ground and heads toward the kitchen. Tristan follows her slowly. "Guess she's not home yet." Rory sets about to make a fresh pot of coffee, dumping the leftovers from that morning into the sink. She gets out two mugs and sets them on the counter.

"Actually, Rory, can I just have some water for now? I don't really want any coffee," Tristan says and Rory looks at him strangely. "It's perfectly normal to drink something other than coffee, you know."

"Not in this house," Rory retorts, but puts one mug back into the cupboard. She goes to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. "Here, catch." She tosses it to him and he catches it with one hand. Rory goes back to putting the coffee filter in as Tristan unscrews the bottle cap and takes a long sip of the water. Rory glances at him out of the corner of her eye, watching the muscles in his neck move as he swallows. He finishes drinking and Rory quickly diverts her attention back to the task at hand. Closing the lid and pressing the start button, Rory turns to Tristan with an expectant look. "So what do you want to start with?"

"Why don't you tell me," he counters, leaning against the doorframe of the entryway. "You're the editor."

"But I wouldn't be editor of anything if you hadn't given me the chance," Rory points out. Tristan stares at her in pretend shock.

"I just handed you a golden opportunity to boss me around and give me orders and you completely missed it," Tristan tells her. "I would've thought you'd enjoy such an event."

"I'm too busy being insecure about my own attempts at success to worry about etching away at your ego," Rory replies honestly. "At least today," she adds.

"Okay then..." Tristan starts, stepping toward her. "Let's decide one thing at a time. What do you want to write our first article about?"

"I'm not sure. I am between reviewing the new Incubus CD or having a debate about the resurgence of hard rock in the past two years."

"Either one would be better than a discussion about which is better, 'N Sync or the Backstreet Boys, so whatever one you want to do is cool by me."

"My grandma calls them the Backside Boys."

"At least she's trying to keep up with popular culture," Tristan chuckles. "My grandfather's knowledge of music stops at Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. And my parents don't listen to any music besides classical."

"Then you have my mom who insists on listening to every CD that passes through the doors of this house," Rory says, taking a bag of chocolate chip cookies down from the cupboard. She opens them up, thinking to herself for a moment. "Do you think we should start off with the CD review and do the other topic next week, when we have more time? Or do you think it's more important to have the more impressive topic in the first issue...?"

"I personally think that more students will pick it up to read about Incubus than a debate over movements in record sales and popular taste, at least at first. If we start off with something that makes them read it once, then they're more likely to read it next week when the great but not as obviously interesting stuff is in it. And then once everyone realizes that they want to read stuff like that, then we're set."

"You sound like you've actually thought about this type of thing before."

"Yeah, I guess..." Tristan shrugs, not able to think up a cocky answer. Rory is a bit baffled by his modesty.

"So, Incubus it is, then."

"You have the CD, right?"

"Bought it last weekend," Rory pours the coffee into her mug and picks up the cookies with her other hand, then nods toward her bedroom. "Let's go put it in and see what happens from there."

"Okay," Tristan agrees, taking the cookies from her as she almost drops them. He walks into her room, interested in seeing it for the first time. Trying not to be obvious, Tristan looks around, taking it all in. Everything about it was Rory, from the pale yellow walls to the posters of far-off places, the stacks upon stacks of books to the countless photos of her family and friends on her desk and dresser. He sits down on the edge of her bed and takes another sip of his water as she sets her coffee down and then puts on the cd. The song Nice to Know You begins to play and he leans back, laying across the width of her bed, his head dangling off of one side and his feet off the other. He doesn't have to look at Rory to know that she's surely giving him a curious look.

"What are you doing?" Rory asks after a moment of silence.

"I'm listening, what does it look like?" He informs her. "This is really the best way to pay attention." Rory watches him, finding his behavior odd but endearing.

"Doesn't all the blood rush to your head like that?" She questions, walking over and stopping next to his head, looking down at him.

"A little, but it's not too bad. Give it a try."

"No thanks." Tristan smiles as he grabs her hand, pulling her down toward the bed. She lands half on top of him, a giggle of surprise escaping her lips.

" Dork," Rory mutters as she squirms off of him, nevertheless rolling over and laying on her back next to him. "This is the best way to listen, huh?"

"Definitely. But you have to be quiet."

"Then stop talking," she answers. Tristan doesn't reply. "Wow, you actually listened."

"Hey, shut up," Tristan says, laughing lightly. Rory rolls her eyes at him and finally lets the silence settle, the music the only thing on her mind.

* * *

"How many times are you going to play that song?" Lorelai asks, annoyed, as she stands in Rory's doorway, clearly in the midst of getting ready to go somewhere. She looks down at the two teens, who are still laying in the same position that they were two hours ago.

"Until we know it inside out, backwards and forwards," Rory mumbles. "Until I can think of something to write, until we get inspired."

"Tristan, please give me a better approximation."

"What she said."

"I thought you were past the evil thing," Lorelai glares at him, half-joking. "But seriously now, kids...I used to like Incubus. Now, after hearing the CD three times through in a row and sitting through 11am about ten times...uh, not so much."

"Sorry, Mom. Just give us a few more minutes."

"In a few a minutes I'll be going out with Sookie, so...nevermind. I was just hoping for a little bit of non-music peace before I go, that's all."

"We can pause it until you leave," Rory sits up, hits pause on her stereo remote control, then lays right back down.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Lorelai makes a worship gesture with both her hands and turns, going back to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Tristan and Rory lay there in complete silence, the only sounds being their slow, even breathing and the hairdryer blowing in the bathroom. All Tristan can think about is how badly he would like to just pull her into his arms; her body is already so close. With the absence of the music, Rory's mind turns to Tristan, his closeness playing into her thoughts as well. Except for Dean, she's never really hung out with a guy, and had certainly never laid next to one on her own bed for an entire afternoon. The fact that she probably would not be doing this with any other guy besides Tristan finally dawns on her.

"Hey Tristan?" Rory finally breaks the silence, turning her head toward him.

"Yeah, Rory?" Tristan replies, still staring at the ceiling. Rory studies the angles of his face, the defined line of his jaw, for a second before speaking.

"We are really friends now, aren't we?"

"You're not sure?" Tristan asks, turning his head and finding himself looking straight into her baby blue eyes. He swallows hard. Rory slowly shakes her head no.

" Before now, not really."

"Why weren't you?"

"I just thought that one day I'd wake up and realize that it was all a dream or something...or that something would happen and you'd go back to how you were. We'd go back to how we were."

"Not gonna happen," Tristan tells her.

"I know," Rory murmurs, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Ror?"

"Yeah-huh?" Rory's eyes flicker open and Tristan smiles gently.

"Why'd you ask me that?"

"I just...wanted to make sure," Rory gives him a small shrug. "I'm glad we're friends."

"Me too." Tristan watches her eyes drift closed again, a glimmer of a smile toying with the edges of her mouth. Letting out a long, deep breath, he looks back up at the ceiling.

Lorelai stumbles out of the bathroom, trying to pull a thin sweater over the black tank she has on while simultaneously trying to put on her shoe. There is a knock at the front door and Lorelai gives up on the sweater, putting on her second shoe and going to answer it. Throwing it open, she turns back around and immediately starts putting her sweater on again.

"Thank god you're finally here, Sookie. Rory and Tristan have been in that room all afternoon, playing the same CD, it's making me crazy. I am so ready for a girl's night-" Lorelai finally pulls the clingy sweater over her head and turns back to the doorway. She stops in her tracks, her face falling. "Out." Mustering a smile, she steps toward the person waiting on the porch. A person who, at the moment, doesn't look too happy. "Dean. Well...hi."

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Extra long update. Hope you like it. And don't worry; Mary (shorty) will not be an interference in the burgeoning Troryness. Please review!


	10. Jealousy

_Chapter Ten: Jealousy_

Lorelai stares at Dean for a moment, struggling to find words that would get rid of the disturbed look on her daughter's boyfriend's face.

"Uh, so...buddy. How ya doing?" Lorelai asks, awkwardly. She has no idea if he had heard what she had said about Tristan, but it was likely that he did. "I thought you were Sookie...so forgive me if what I just said makes no sense. Unless you didn't hear what I said, which in that case..."

"Tristan's here?" Dean demands to know, his voice tight and his lips set into an even tighter frown. Lorelai winces. Yeah. He heard.

"Tristan? Who is Tristan?"

"The person whose name you just said," Dean states, his frown set ferociously.

"Why would I say Tristan? That's a stupid name."

"I know. It's also the name of that guy from Chilton that annoys Rory so much. And you just said he was here, of all places."

"Um...he's _not_ here, paranoia boy..." Lorelai shakes her head slowly as if confused and annoyed by the very suggestion. "I said Rory and _Chris_ have been in her room playing the same song over and over all afternoon," she retraces her steps, knowing she's walking a very fine line. "He's been helping her with some music project for school so they can bond or something. Silly really. He should just buy her a brand new pony like all the other fathers," she lets out a small snort of laughter, hoping Dean joins in. While Lorelai thought that keeping the friendship with Tristan under wraps was not the brightest idea, being the one to inform Dean of the truth was not a position she wanted to be in.

"Chris?" Dean is still not aware who she is referring to.

"Her father..." Lorelai informs him slowly, not knowing why he didn't pick up on that when she said fathers before. Dean's mind is elsewhere, slowly mulling it all over, not sure why Lorelai's words aren't sitting right. "You lookin' for Rory?" Lorelai continues, not liking the expression on his face.

"Yes..." Dean eyes her strangely. Lorelai laughs nervously, hitting herself on the forehead.

"Of course you're looking for Rory. I mean...don't think you came over here to hang out with me!" She gives him a little punch in the shoulder and accidentally hits him quite hard. "Oo, oh...sorry." She pats the spot where she hit him, frowning. "I didn't mean to actually hit you...hard." Lorelai takes a large step away from Dean, taking her hands completely off of him as the look on his face grows even more strange. Crossing her arms in front of her and shifting anxiously on her feet, Lorelai glances toward Rory's bedroom and then back at Dean. "Rory and her dad just went for a ride into Hartford for some fancy schmancy dinner or something. You know, quality time before he jets back to Boston."

"Oh...okay..." Dean takes a step toward the door, unsure. "I didn't know he was coming to visit."

"It was another one of his surprise drop-bys, you know how that goes," Lorelai replies, then stops, thinking about that. "Well, I guess you don't, but he does that a lot. Just for future reference."

"I'll keep that in mind. Do you know when they're going to be back?"

"Probably not until late. I can have her call you?"

"No, that's okay...I just left one of my notebooks from school in her bedroom yesterday when I was here, and I need it to start some homework. Do you mind if I go grab it?"

"Actually, why don't I go get it for you?" Lorelai offers quickly, jumping in front of him as he takes a step into the house. "Rory left some of her more...private articles of clothing out this morning...you know, clean laundry she hasn't put away yet. I don't think she'd want you in there," she blurts out, hoping to god that Dean would just believe her. "What does it look like?"

"It's a red spiral and it has global studies written on the cover," Dean informs her and Lorelai breathes a sigh of relief. Smiling, she snaps her fingers.

"Be back in a flash," she dashes toward Rory's bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Rory and Tristan both look up at her in surprise. They had been too wrapped up in their own private moment and hadn't heard a word of the goings-on in the foyer. Rory had heard her mom calling something out to Sookie and then had let it fade into the background. Rory opens her mouth to speak but Lorelai covers it with her hand and signals for her to be quiet. Glancing around her daughter's bedroom like a thief pulling off a dangerous heist, she closes the shades, grabs the red notebook from the top of Rory's desk and then kneels down in front of Rory.

"Be very quiet for the next few minutes. I'm turning off the light now," Lorelai whispers to her and then jumps up and heads out the door, switching off the light on the way. Rory looks at Tristan in complete puzzlement, and even though it's too dark to make out his face, she's positive he's equally befuddled. About two minutes pass by before Lorelai races back in, grabs Rory's hand, and pulls her out into the kitchen. "Close your door, we need to have a little chat."

Rory does so, but not before turning her bedroom light back on for Tristan.

"Mom, what is going on? Have you lost your mind?"

"I thought Dean was Sookie but Dean isn't Sookie. But I talked to Dean like he was Sookie and mentioned you and Tristan and then I looked up and it wasn't Sookie at all. He came to get his notebook and I totally covered up the damage I caused by my accidental admission of Tristan's presence in the Gilmore household, but in doing that I had to lie and I hate lying. Especially to a poor unsuspecting teenage boy who loves my daughter. One who now thinks I'm absolutely crazy, mind you."

"Wait...what?" Rory blinks once or twice, still processing her mother's hyper explanation. "Dean was here? And you told him Tristan was here?"

"Not on purpose..." Lorelai recoils as if she's afraid of being punished but Rory is just too stunned to react.

"What did Dean do?" Rory asks after a moment, her voice surprisingly calm, cool and collected. Lorelai hesitates, not believing that her daughter isn't freaking out, and then relaxes.

"I told him that I had said Chris rather than Tristan and said your father was here. And that you were out to dinner with him in Hartford. And then I came and got the notebook for him that he needed, and quickly sent him on his way. I'm not sure that he believed me entirely but I think the crisis has been temporarily diverted..." Lorelai says.

"You told him I was in Hartford with Dad?"

"Yes."

"He didn't say anything about the silver Camaro parked out front?"

"Oh...no..." Lorelai cringes. "Maybe he didn't notice?"

"Mother..."

"If he asks, say it was Dad's and that he was having car trouble so you took the Jeep."

"But the Jeep's there too."

"It's a much more non-descript vehicle than a Camaro...you can say it wasn't there and he'll most likely not be able to recall it's presence or lack thereof."

"You think that's really going to work? Relying on the off-chance his memory isn't perfectly clear?"

"Hey, you're the one keeping things from him, don't criticize how I aid and abet you," Lorelai responds, shrugging. Rory lets out a sigh.

"Right, sorry." She glances toward her closed bedroom door, hoping that Tristan wasn't listening to any of this. She doubted that he would be happy with hearing their friendship was being kept a secret on Rory's end of the line. "I'll have to call him tomorrow and see if everything's all right," Rory states, shaking her head in dismay.

"When you call him tomorrow, might I suggest just telling him about you and Tristan?" Lorelai replies. "Because I really don't want to have to make a habit of covering up for you. It's not like you to be dishonest, Rory, and I really don't like it." Seeing the hurt pass across her daughter's face, she quickly continues. "And you know that no matter how hard I try I'm eventually going to screw it up for you anyway, and if not me, someone else, so you might as well just bite the bullet."

"Yeah, I know," Rory admits. "I guess I just wasn't ready to have that fight with him yet."

"You're ready now?" Lorelai inquires.

"Yeah, I am," Rory says truthfully. The one great thing that had come of her time with Tristan that afternoon had convinced her that her friendship with him was something to risk Dean over. Before now, she hadn't been sure. Three months ago the chances of even considering putting any kind of priority on a friendship with Tristan had been more unlikely than the Spice Girls getting back together and gaining musical credibility. But now things were different. So different.

"Good to know," Lorelai responds, carefully watching Rory's face as she seemed to be contemplating something. "Any particular reason why you've changed your mind?" Rory nods with a small smile, then walks back into her bedroom without explaining to her mother. Tristan is sitting at her desk, apparently looking at the photos she has lined up along the back of it.

Out in the kitchen, Lorelai watches the two for a moment, but is soon interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Make sure it's actually Sookie this time!" Rory calls to her.

"Hardy har har," Lorelai calls as she races to open the front door.

"Hi hi!" Sookie's chipper voice echoes into the house as she scrambles inside, giving Lorelai a hug.

"Oo, cupcake, it feels like I haven't seen you in days! No, months! Years, even!" Lorelai laughs as Sookie hugs her again, bouncing on her tiptoes.

"You just saw me yesterday, Sook," Lorelai says, shaking her head.

"For like, a second! You've been with Luke every single waking moment for the past two weeks!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you or anything," Lorelai frowns, stopping for a moment in the midst of putting on her jacket.

"Oh, hon, ignore me all you want!" Sookie waves her off, tittering. "You and Luke, Luke and you...it's so exciting! Did I tell you I won fifty bucks in the kitchen pool? I had you two down for before Christmas and everyone else gave you at _least_ another year!"

"You were _betting_ on us?" Lorelai acts stunned.

Rory chimes in as she and Tristan walk out into the foyer to say good-bye to her mother. "Dean told me that Taylor won a hundred from Miss Patty...and Kirk lost a large amount - though I don't know how much - to Jackson."

"It was only a hundred-fifty," Sookie states. Lorelai's mouth falls open and she puts her hands on her hips.

"That was the highest bet?" She exclaims in indignation. "I figured it was way higher than that!"

"If it were any more, honey, Kirk would've burst a blood vessel," Sookie laughs, and Rory nods in agreement. "He's the biggest sore loser you've ever seen."

"That I believe. Even with the money he makes from all those jobs he has, he's the ultimate cheapskate," Lorelai snorts.

Sookie finally notices Tristan standing there in awkward silence as Rory, Lorelai and Sookie joked around. She glances at him and then raises her eyebrows at Rory.

"And who is this little cutie pie?" Sookie chirps, grinning.

"Tristan DuGrey," Tristan offers his hand, biting back the ma'am that rose naturally in his throat. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, pumpkin. I've heard that you've really done quite the turn around lately," Sookie taps his shoulder with a coy smile. "We're all really happy about that." Rory looks really embarrassed and ducks her head. Tristan takes it in stride.

"Well, I know I wasn't exactly a model of good behavior in the past but as you know I've been trying my best," he replies with a charming smile.

"Keep it up," Lorelai tells him, ushering Sookie toward the door before she blabbed to Tristan that the most popular topic of discussion lately was Tristan's looks and his chances with Rory. She didn't think Rory's face could handle getting any redder. "We're gonna get going or we'll miss our reservation."

"Have fun, you two," Rory says as the pair walks out the front door.

"Oh we will! I'm going to get every last little detail that your mom's been hiding from me for the past two weeks. It's gonna be Luke, Luke, Luke!" Sookie giggles excitedly and Lorelai rolls her eyes, a slight tint of pink shading her own cheeks now. "We finally can talk about Lorelai's love life, hoo-hoo!"

"I don't know why she's so excited about this."

"All we've been talking about for months is me and Jackson, ever since you and Max broke up, I am totally deprived of being on the listening end! I'm thrilled!" She claps her hands together then dashes down the front porch steps. Sookie stops and then runs back, grabbing Lorelai's hand and bringing Lorelai with her. "We'll see you two sweethearts later!"

"Get that article done!" Lorelai calls back and Rory quickly shuts the door, knowing that her mother's words were really a thinly veiled warning born out of fear of leaving Rory alone with Tristan.

"Are you hungry?" Rory asks as they walk from the foyer.

"Sure."

"Have a taste for anything?"

"Not especially," Tristan shrugs.

"Well, unless you want to eat coffee grinds or frozen waffles, I vote we order something."

"What are you in the mood for?" Tristan asks.

"I'm thinkin' pizza or wings."

"We could live dangerously and do both."

"There's no way we could eat both," Rory shakes her head.

"Not a problem for me," Tristan smirks.

"You're that hungry?"

"Don't tell me Dean never pigs out. He has to," Tristan jokes but Rory just smiles faintly.

"When we get pizza Dean always eats salad," Rory explains and Tristan is surprised.

"Well, each to his own," he remarks, choosing not to slide in another insult at Dean. "Besides, if we don't eat it, leftovers are legal, you know."

"Oh, just shush," Rory scowls. She goes to the kitchen and picks up the phone, dialing the number without even thinking about it. "Hey, Joe. It's Rory. Do you still have the Tuesday night special?" There's a small pause. "Well, we haven't ordered pizza on a Tuesday night in quite some time." Another pause. "Yeah. Wait one second." She puts her hand over the phone and turns to Tristan. "Pepperoni and Cheese and mild wings okay?"

"That's fine." Tristan says, too content to dispute anything. He sits down on the living room couch and looks around, having gotten a very short glimpse on the quick house tour Lorelai had insisted on giving him while Rory was setting Lane up on the phone with Henry. The entire house was so quaint, so warm. There were pictures everywhere, little knick knacks, discarded objects on the floor; personality was splashed in every corner. It was easy to recognize the people who lived in this house. Rory plops down next to him on the couch with an extra bounce, jarring him from his thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" She inquires.

"What makes you think I was thinking about anything?" He shoots back. Rory points to his forehead.

"Your eyebrows scrunch up and you do this strange thing with your jaw," she runs her finger down his jawline lightly and Tristan almost lets out a sigh of happiness at the feeling of her touch.

"Oh, what do I do?" Tristan glances at her out of the corner of his eye, not moving away from her hand. She retraces the path she just took with two fingers, her touch featherlight. Rory looks at him, her gaze focusing on him.

"You kind of set your jaw, lock it. And your eyes always seem to be focusing on something, but nothing at all."

"You just noticing this now, Mary?" Tristan says, finally turning to look at her. Rory draws her hand back, suddenly remembering herself.

"No, it's just something I've always observed about you. Even when we weren't friends. You look so tense sometimes...when something's on your mind."

"Nothing was really on my mind," Tristan assures her. "I was just thinking about how different your house is from mine."

"Different worlds?"

"My house is Cameron's, your house is Ferris Bueller's."

"That's ironic, cause you're more Ferris and I'm more Cameron."

"You're not more Cameron," Tristan scoffs, chuckling. "Not even close."

"I'm the straight-laced smart kid."

"With hypochondria?"

"I didn't mean in every way," Rory replies exasperatedly.

"I know," Tristan says, patting her knee good-naturedly. Rory ignores the tingle that goes up her spine, also trying to ignore the fact that over the past two days the touching quotient had gone up considerably. And largely due to her own actions. Rory's sudden silence makes Tristan instantly regret his action. He had done it without thinking and the second his hand hit her leg he couldn't believe he did it. "When's the pizza going to get here?"

"Joe said twenty minutes."

"It's sad that you're on a first name basis with your pizza guy."

"It's Stars Hollow, Tristan. I'm on a first name basis with everyone."

"Right. I forgot. How very George Bailey."

"That's right. We're a regular Bedford Falls. We even got a cop named Bert and a cabbie named Ernie."

"I still find it cool that that's who Bert and Ernie are named after."

"It is pretty cool," Rory agrees easily. "I used to watch Sesame Street every day."

"I never really watched it. I was more of a Mr. Dressup kind of kid."

"Mr. Dressup? Wow, bringing out the inner transvestite already. Now we're really getting trusting," Rory giggles, climbing off the couch. "But speaking of movies and transvestites, my mom and I taped Tootsie the other night. You feel like watching it?"

"Sure, why not," Tristan sinks back into the couch, setting his feet on the coffee table. He expects Rory to scold him and tell him to take them off, but she just pops the movie into the VCR, turns on the television, and sits back down next to him. She puts her own feet on the table and leans back into the pillows.

"I love this movie," she smiles, settling in. Tristan looks down at her brown head as she almost snuggles into him.

This can't possibly be real, Tristan thinks to himself, disbelieving. The feeling of having her so close to him is amazing. He'd never felt so comfortable sitting with someone in his entire life, while at the same time feeling the incredible stirring of attraction in his stomach. It would be so easy to stay like this forever.

* * *

Lorelai bursts in the front door, throwing her purse and not looking where it lands.

"Rory, I want to see it!" She exclaims giddily, racing toward her daughter's bedroom.

"Where is this wonderful creation? I want to pour over every word, every comma, every little detail. Do you have your own little black and white editor's photo?"

"Mom, calm down," Rory says, climbing up from her bed to before her mother can jump on her.

"I wanna see!" Lorelai whines, jumping up and down. "Did it come out good?

"Come out well?"

"Shut up, you little English major wannabe, show me the paper!"

"You're a newsboy now?"

"Extra, extra, read all about it! Lorelai Gilmore growing impatient to see marvelous daughter's brilliance in print!" She tosses her arms into the air wildly. Rory smiles at her mother's antics and goes and retrieves the paper from her backpack.

"Here you go, Mom." She hands it to her and Lorelai stares at it happily.

"Wow...oh, wow, Rory. This is amazing!" She sits down on the bed, eagerly beginning to read. "You and Tristan both got your own little pictures! He looks cute in black and white."

"Mother."

"Oh, don't get all jealous, you look cuter," Lorelai shushes her, her eyes rapidly scanning the article, eating it up. "Rory, this is good, this is really, really good. You sound so professional. And Lane! This is so cool! That's her name, right there, in print!" She points, giggling. "Do you have extras? Please tell me you have extras. I have to bring some to the Inn for Sookie, and one for Luke, and one for Michel so I can torture him...and of course we must give one to your grandparents lest they discover your marvelous exploits secondhand and then I'll never hear the end of it...and of course fifty for me. No, one hundred."

"How much sugar have you had today?" Rory inquires and Lorelai shakes her head.

"Only three cups of coffee, and one sugar cookie. Not that much. This is all natural high, baby. Buzz buzz buzz, I'm rattling and humming out of extreme pride and joy. My little girl is a journalist." She pauses, as if remembering something. "Are you going to show Dean? Cause I totally plan on showboating this thing around town to everyone but I can't do that if this is another secret linked to Tristan."

"No, I suppose you can't."

"So I can't brag?"

"No, I'm going to tell Dean."

"You said that two days ago."

"I am this time. For real. Don't worry," Rory assures her and Lorelai wipes her hand across her forehead with a relieved look.

"Good. Because I wouldn't have been able to stop myself."

"You have the self-control of a rabbit."

"So when ya gonna tell him? Tonight? Tomorrow morning? Cause I want to start the Rory-promotion circuit as soon as possible," Lorelai hops up and down in excitement, holding her hands up like paws and panting. Rory rolls her eyes, but can't stop herself from chuckling as her mom bends her head down and nudges her with her nose.

"I'm going to tell him tonight. Can you hold off until then?"

"I'll try to make it."

"I'm serious, Mom."

"Oh, poo on you. I can keep my mouth shut for a few hours."

"Can you?"

"Would you just go call Dean?" Lorelai tells her, gesturing for her to get out of the room.

"Is the phone still under the pile of magazines underneath the cushion of the armchair?"

"No, I think I used it earlier and probably left it underneath the tv, in the cupboard."

"Why there?" Rory asks as she heads into the living room.

"Don't quite remember...I think I was looking for the TV Guide."

"No, that's in the hallway next to the coat rack."

"Oh! Right! How did I forget that?" Lorelai exclaims, hightailing it into the foyer and picking it up off of the floor from behind the coat rack. She holds it up triumphantly, beaming. "Good, now I know what I can watch tonight while I'm _not_ saying anything about your paper."

"Good girl," Rory pats her mother on the shoulder as she passes by, heading back toward her bedroom. Lorelai follows her as far as the kitchen, her face buried in the small magazine. She sits back on the table and begins intensely reading the Cheers and Jeers section; Rory pauses for a moment before shutting her bedroom door.

She stares at the phone in her hand, not looking forward to the task she knows lies ahead of her. Rory dials his familiar number and waits patiently for someone to answer, half-hoping that maybe he wouldn't be home. But after four rings someone picks up, barely beating the answering machine to the job.

"Hello?" Clara's small voice comes over the line. Rory resists the urge to hang up.

"Hello, this is Rory. Is your brother home?"

"I'll go get him," Clara chirps, the sound of the phone clanging against something hard echoing loudly. Rory pulls the phone away from her ear, startled. She can hear Clara calling Dean and Dean's mother telling her to go get him instead of screaming for him. A few moments later Dean picks up.

"Hey, Rory," he greets her, out of breath.

"What if it hadn't been me?"

"I knew it was you."

"How did you? I didn't hear Clara tell you," Rory replies, falling into uneasy banter.

"I'm just psychic, that's all. How was hanging with your dad?"

"My dad? Oh...great," Rory coughs out. "He had to leave already though. Business meeting or something. So, what's new?"

"Not much. How was school?"

"Same old, same old," Rory lies, for the moment. Telling him it was actually really exciting would have to come after she tells him about Tristan. First things first. "Sorry I missed you at the bus stop again."

"That's okay..." Dean says, though he sounds a bit depressed by the memory. "Did you have to stay late again?"

"Yeah, I had a short meeting to go to. A friend gave me a ride home," Rory informs him, her own memory quickly fleeing back to the ride home with Tristan which had been spent having an argument over whether Thundercats or Voltron had been the better cartoon.

"Paris?" He inquires, not knowing who else it could possibly be. "Did you two make up?"

"Um, no. Listen, Dean..." Rory considers telling him over the phone, but knowing that would only lead to disaster, opts for another route. "Could we get together tonight? Maybe go for a walk? There's something I kind of need to talk to you about."

The line is quiet for a moment.

"That can't be good," he replies. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assures him quickly. "I just have something to...explain...to you, and I'd rather do it face to face." There's another unsure silence before he answers.

"All right...when?"

"How about we meet in about half an hour? In the gazebo?"

"Okay. I'll see you in half an hour then."

"Great," Rory says before hanging up, the word ringing sarcastically in her mind.

* * *

"I'll sit in the window seat at Luke's and keep an eye out. Just in case he goes crazy on you. I can swoop in for the rescue," Lorelai states as they stop in front of Luke's.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue." Rory glances across the street, trying to see if Dean is already there and waiting.

"You don't think Dean's going to be a little angry when he finds out that you're friends - good friends, even - with the one guy he would love you stay away from for the entirety of your life? And that you've been keeping it from him? That you were lying alone with him on your bed in your room in practically the dark instead of-"

"Mom, not helping," Rory cuts her off.

"Just trying to put things into perspective for you. Get you prepared," Lorelai warns her and then gets into her Dean mode. "It's gonna be a lot of: 'Rory, how could you. Rory, do you like him more than me. Rory, I love you. Rory, don't you love me?'"

"You do know that Dean doesn't sound anything like that, right?"

"He sort of does," Lorelai smirks but then tries to conceal it as Rory glares at her.

"You're supposed to be bolstering me up here, not making fun of Dean and telling me that he's going to hate me forever."

"I never said that!" Lorelai exclaims defensively. "I was just letting you know that if it doesn't go well, I'm here for you. In the diner."

"Why don't you go in the diner then and let me go destroy my relationship?" Rory points to the entrance and Lorelai bounces toward it.

"I'm serious, though. If he starts yelling I'm going to run over and hit him over the head with my purse."

"Your purse?"

"I put a brick in it."

"There's a brick in your purse."

"Yep."

"Go to Luke's, Mom."

"I've got your back!" She opens the diner door and calls to Rory as she crosses the street. Rory shakes her head and cuts across the park toward the gazebo. Dean is sitting on the bench, looking down at his hands. Rory approaches him slowly, the sight of him making her second-guess her purpose for the talk.

"Hey, Dean," Rory greets him softly, sitting down next to him. He looks up, startled. He had been deep in thought.

"Hey," he replies, looking back down at his hands. "So...what do you need to talk about?" Rory fidgets nervously, not sure where to start.

"It's a little cold tonight," she says, shivering. "It feels like winter already."

"You brought me out here to talk about the weather?" Dean laughs lightly. Rory shakes her head no.

"Actually, I brought you out here to show you something." Rory pulls her newspaper out from her bag and hands it to him.

"A newspaper."

"My newspaper."

"Uh...your newspaper?" Dean repeats, surprised. He looks it over quickly, stunned. "What...when did this happen? Is this...is this what you've been working on all week?"

"Yeah." Rory eyes him, wondering when he's going to notice Tristan's picture across from hers on the front page. "I've been working really hard on it."

"I can tell. It's amazing. I can't believe this...why didn't you tell me?"

"Well..." Rory shifts in her seat again. "Like I said...I've been working on it really hard...almost constantly..."

"I'm confused...so... _why_ didn't you tell me about it?"

"Cause I wasn't working on it alone." Rory blurts out. "I mean...I was working with Tristan."

"Excuse me? Did you just say you were working on it with Tristan?" Dean stares at her, disbelieving.

"Yes, that's what I said," Rory states, trying to stop her voice from cracking.

"Tristan. Tristan that you hate. I don't understand."

"There's not really much to understand...Tristan and I are working on the paper together, that's all there is to it, really," Rory replies gingerly. Dean jumps up, immediately angry. "Dean, just sit down for a second. Don't get mad," she pleads and after a moment's hesitation, he complies. "I wanted to tell you, I just...I didn't know how you'd handle it. I was afraid."

"Did you get assigned to work together on this too?"

"No...we didn't. It was completely voluntary," Rory says honestly. "After Paris refused to let me do anything important for the Franklin, Tristan arranged for me to have control of my own paper."

"He did this? God, I should have known. What a weasel...I hate that guy..." Dean's jaw is clenched tightly and Rory sighs deeply. "You realize this is just another one of his ploys to get you to like him, right? He did this whole thing just so you would have to work with him."

"Dean, I didn't _have_ to do anything, I wasn't trapped. He only set it up for me, because he could. He didn't even make the suggestion that we work together. I'm the one who asked him to work on it with me."

"Why would you do that? Come to think of it, why would you even accept him doing this for you?"

"Because." Rory starts, frowning. "Because we're friends."

"Friends?"

"And we have been friends. For awhile now."

Dean gets up again, this time without an exclamation.

"I wanted to tell you about it, but you're so...whenever I even mention him you get so angry and I just didn't know how."

"How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"Since...the beginning of summer, I guess."

_"What?" _

"Dean..."

"I don't understand, Rory. What does this mean? Do you like Tristan now?"

"Yes, I like him. But I don't _like_ him, not the way you're thinking. And I don't know how you could think that."

"Have you been with him all week?"

"Lane and Mary too...sometimes."

"The other night when I came by and your Mom said you were with your dad...were you really? Cause I don't remember your dad driving a fancy sports car."

"No, I wasn't with him," Rory replies, ashamed of herself. "My mom didn't want to lie, she only did because-"

"Because she was trying to protect you," Dean finishes. He starts pacing back and forth. Rory watches him, her heart beating wildly. She was still waiting for him to really get pissed off; this surely couldn't be it. That would be too much to hope for. "I don't see why you lied to me if there was supposedly nothing to hide, Rory."

"Don't do that, Dean," Rory pleads, frustrated.

"Don't do _what_?"

"I told you why I didn't tell you. I wasn't trying to keep it from you because I was doing something wrong. The only reason, and by that I mean the one, singular, lone reason, that I didn't tell you was that you're completely unreasonable when it comes to Tristan and I was scared to lose you over something so stupid."

"So why tell me at all?"

"Because I don't want to have to hide it from you and really, I don't think I should have to! And I think the more appropriate question here is why I would believe I could lose you over this. Doesn't that bother you? Cause it really bothers me." Rory stands up herself, a spark of anger igniting within her. "If that's all it takes to break us up, I think you have a problem, not me."

"I never said anything about us breaking up."

"So you're fine with me being friends with Tristan."

"No."

"Then what other alternative is there?" Rory inquires, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Dean expectantly. Dean opens his mouth to reply but then stops. He sits down on the bench again, running his hands through his hair before looking up at her again.

"Rory, I don't want to break up. That's the last thing I want. It's just hard for me...Tristan likes you and he wants you for himself-"

"He does no-"

"Even if you don't think so. I don't trust him..." He sighs, then reaches out gingerly and touches his fingers to hers. He gently tugs her hand and she sits down next to him. "But I do trust you. And I know you would never...And if you really think that Tristan is worth your time and friendship there must be at least some shred of decency in him. A very, very, small shred." Rory rolls her eyes at him and he chuckles lightly.

"Are you saying that you're okay with this?"

"I wouldn't say okay. Will trying to be okay suffice?"

"That's a start, right?" Rory says hopefully. Dean smiles despite himself, squeezing her hand before raising it to his lips and kissing it softly.

"It's a start." Rory smiles back at him, leaning in and pressing her lips to his for a short but sweet kiss.

"Maybe you should go to the diner now and tell your mom that things are okay," Dean whispers, kissing her again quickly. Rory laughs.

"And how do you know that she's waiting there?"

"Because you're you and she's her. Now get going before she comes after me with that brick."

"You could hear her, couldn't you?"

"Just the brick part, cause she was yelling it from across the street," Dean admits as Rory stands up.

"She probably did that intentionally, now that I think about it," Rory jokes, heading down the steps. "Do you want to come to Luke's and get some coffee or something?"

"No, I think I'm going to head home," Dean gestures in the opposite direction and Rory frowns.

"Oh. Well, all right. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," Dean replies, giving her a small wave before turning and heading toward home. Rory watches him go, not entirely convinced that Dean was as accepting of her news as he wanted her to believe. Sighing, she walks toward Luke's to relate the news to her mother.

The second she walks in the door, Lorelai hops up from her chair by the window, prepared to go into either comfort mode or Beat-up-Dean mode.

"What happened?" She asks immediately, walking toward Rory. "Did the stupid boy do something stupid?"

"That was redundant. But no, he didn't. He...he actually took it better than I thought he would."

"Really?" Lorelai is surprised.

"Yeah..." Rory says, walking toward Lorelai's table slowly. "He was mad at first but then he calmed down and he said he'd try to be okay with it." Lorelai looks impressed as she sits down across from her daughter.

"I...I did not expect that. That ol' boy is full of surprises."

"Except..." Rory starts, her face betraying her thoughts. "Except I'm not sure if I believe him."

"Well, how about this. Let's believe him for now, and then if he does something that disproves it, we can take him out in the town square and beat him with a broom?"

"Good idea."

"Coffee?"

"Even better idea."

"Luke!" Lorelai calls out, not even bothering to turn and look for him. "We need coffee and no disputes!"

"You could wait for me to get to your table before ordering, you know, like normal people," Luke grunts as he stops at the side of their table, pen and pad of paper in hand. He looks at Lorelai with a tinge of annoyance but a lot of love. Lorelai grins up at him.

"I am not normal people and if you don't know that by now, you're dating the wrong girl," Lorelai teases. "But since you are dating me...you think we could get that coffee as soon as possible and with no lectures? Rory here has had a bit of a hard time tonight."

"Have you really had a hard time, or is she using you as an excuse?"

"Really had a hard time."

"Sorry to hear that. Coffee's coming right up." He turns without another word and goes to get them their drinks. Lorelai looks at Rory in amazement.

"Wow...if I had known that you were the key to the kingdom I would've started using that excuse sooo long ago!"

"Glad to know I serve some purpose for you."

"Not the only purpose. I can brag about you now, right? Since the cat's out of the bag with bag boy?"

"You're really awful tonight, you know that?"

"Well, I think carrying that brick in my purse has set my entire body and mind off balance. Everything's kinda sliding to one side."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have carried a brick then," Rory points out, smirking. Lorelai sighs.

"It's better to be prepared, you know," she retorts, climbing up out of her seat as Miss Patty walks into the diner. She pulls a copy of The Chilton Beat out of her purse and grins. "Which I totally am, in every aspect. Miss Patty, hey!" Lorelai is off and running before Rory can open her mouth to protest. Luke walks back over to Rory, setting a steaming mug full of coffee in front of her. He gestures to the seat across from her.

"Mind if I sit for a second?"

Rory looks at him in surprise, startled by his question.

"Sit? Sure," she stammers. "You never sit."

"Hey, I sit," Luke states, lowering himself to the chair and moving Lorelai's purse aside. "What the heck does she have in there? Lead weights?"

"Close. A brick." Luke raises his eyebrows at Rory. "Take a look if you don't believe me."

"No...no, I believe you." He glances over at Lorelai. "She telling everyone about your newspaper?"

"Yep," Rory chirps, then stops. "How did you know about it?"

"She had to tell someone. Just be glad she told the one person in the town who can keep a secret," Luke chuckles. Rory nods in agreement.

"She couldn't have chosen a better person." Rory pauses, then eyes Luke suspiciously. "She told you about Dean too."

"Uh...no," Luke mumbles, clearly lying. Rory shoots him a look and he sighs. "All right, so maybe she might have mentioned something about the possibility of having to ban Dean from the diner."

"I see."

"_Do_ I have to ban Dean from the diner?"

"No," Rory grins, laughing.

"Because I have no qualms whatsoever about doing that."

"I know, Luke, and thank you for that. But I don't think it's necessary. Not yet, at least."

"Well, keep me posted," Luke pats her arm gently and stands up. "You want anything to eat or is your drink of death enough?"

"I'll have a cheeseburger please," Rory requests, her mood actually lifting quite a bit merely as a result of her conversation with Luke.

"Better make it two, in case Blabbermouth over there ever decides to sit down," Luke corrects rather loudly. Lorelai shoots him a glare from by the counter where she is talking to Taylor. She excuses herself and walks over to the pair.

"I am not a Blabbermouth. Sookie, yes. Miss Patty, definitely. Taylor? King of them all. _I_ am merely spreading the joy of my daughter's creative genius. Are you saying that I shouldn't be proud of Rory? Huh?" Lorelai looks at Luke, punctuating her last word with a finger jab to his shoulder.

"Point taken," Luke concedes, smiling. Lorelai leans forward and gives him a quick kiss on the lips, then pulls away and slaps him on the butt.

"Then get moving with those burgers, you plaid clad crazy man! We be hungry!"

Luke shakes his head in both dismay and reluctant amusement and heads toward the kitchen to get their meals started.

"You've really got him wrapped around your finger. It's almost sad," Rory comments as her mother sits down. Lorelai giggles happily, almost giddily.

"Isn't it?" Lorelai situates herself in her seat. "So. I told Miss Patty and she's going to inform everyone she meets, surely. Taylor is posting a copy in the window of the market and all of his cashiers will be sure to mention you in the checkout lines this evening. By tomorrow there will not be a soul in this fine town who doesn't know about your success. I can not wait to tell Michel every last detail of this." She rubs her hands together as if beginning a deliciously wicked task.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"When we get home, make sure to call your grandparents."

"I will," Rory nods. "Grandpa is going to be so happy."

"I'm sure Emily will be just delighted," Lorelai adds in her haughty tone of impersonation. "You're probably going to get a present on Friday night. Maybe another one of those boring books you love so much."

"I hope they don't go through all that trouble."

"We really need to teach you how to be more greedy."

"I'll try harder next time."

"That's my girl."

* * *

Tristan sighs as he leans against the locker next to Rory's, his eyes falling closed. Rory glances at him as she grabs two textbooks and a notebook and shoves them into her bag before saying anything.

"What's the matter?"

"What?" Tristan's eyes flicker open, and he raises his head.

"Did you not sleep last night or something?"

"I was working on that paper for Lit. I just couldn't get the tenth page. I was stuck on nine and didn't know how to draw it out any more," he explains, yawning. "Sorry," he murmurs, turning his face away as he yawns again.

"How late did you stay up?" Rory inquires.

"Until 5am."

"We've had three weeks to work on it, why did you wait so long?" Rory half-laughs, teasing him slightly.

"Rory, please don't lecture..." he pleads, standing up straight and turning his gaze down the hallway. "I worked on it, I just couldn't get it done."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Rory stops, frowning. "I didn't mean to _lecture_ you. I was just kidding..."

"How much time do we have until class?" Tristan glances at his bare wrist and then runs his hand through his tousled hair. "I forgot my watch this morning."

"We have about two minutes. Why?"

"I have to run by my locker real quick. I just realized I left my notebook for this class," he explains. "I'll be right back."

"You want me to come with?" Rory offers.

"What? Oh, oh...no. I'll see you in class," he stammers, turning around and walking backward for a few paces before hurrying off. Rory watches him go, slightly concerned.

"What's up with him?" Mary asks, coming up behind Rory and opening up her own locker. "He looked like he didn't even know where he was."

"He got about two hours of sleep last night," Rory states, forcing a smile. "The Lit paper, you know. Did you get yours done okay?"

"I've had that baby done for a week, thank goodness," she grins. "Never been so relieved to finish something in my entire life. How'd yours go?"

"Ten pages of pure hell," Rory retorts. "But at least it's done. I handed it in this morning." She glances in the direction Tristan went again, falling silent. Mary looks at her questioningly but Rory is too enveloped in her own thoughts to notice. "I've gotta go. I'll see you later."

"Bye..." Mary replies to Rory's back as she walks away. She sighs, shaking her head. She couldn't wait until the moment that Rory Gilmore finally admitted to herself that she liked Tristan DuGrey as more than a friend. It'll take forever, but when it happens, boy is it gonna be good, Mary thinks to herself, smiling faintly as she shuts her locker and heads to class.

Rory enters her classroom and she can immediately feel Paris' eyes on her, Paris' mind surely listing and relisting all the possible reasons, explanations and repercussions for the fact that Tristan and Rory had not entered the room together. Resisting the overwhelming and unfamiliar urge to give Paris the finger, Rory smiles at Henry and sits down at her seat. She looks at the door for a few moments before realizing that she's waiting expectantly for Tristan to walk in, and then quickly shifts her gaze down to her textbook, pretending to find it incredibly interesting.

"The fact you're reading it voluntarily is scary," Tristan's breath tickles her ear as he bends down to talk to her before sitting down in the seat behind her. Rory smiles before rolling her eyes and turning around to face him.

"It's something I like to call studying. Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Oh, is that what that's called?" Tristan mumbles, shooting her back a small grin that merely tugs at the corners of his mouth. He leans his head on one hand, his other arm draped across his overstuffed binder. "You think there's any chance this class will be interesting enough to keep me awake?"

"I wouldn't count on it."

"Do me a favor and wake me up if the teacher is looking at me?"

"Will do," Rory replies, then turns back to face the front of the room as the teacher walks in.

Tristan stares at the back of Rory's head for a moment, the sweet, faint smell of her soft perfume reaching him a few moments after the breeze from her swiftly turning head.

Last night his parents had held a small dinner party. Their close family friends had all been invited, and by that he meant his mother's fellow snobby socialites and their businessmen husbands, all of which played golf at the club on weekends with his equally business-like father. Usually the little gatherings had been tolerable, since all of the daughters of these illustrious families were present as well. Usually one of them would prove to be interesting enough to bear for at least one evening. Usually he'd make it through the evening by disappearing upstairs while his parents had after dinner drinks in the sitting room.

But last night had not been the usual. Rory Gilmore had made the same old routine an unacceptable option. He had made it into the safety of his bedroom with Gretchen but the second they sat down on his bed and started kissing, a dozen different kinds of alarms went off inside his head. All he could think about was Rory. He had no obligations to her but he felt like he was cheating. It was insane to be feeling as if he were dishonoring her. It wasn't as if she felt guilty when she was kissing Dean. He doubted that he even crossed her mind when she was in the presence of Dean. Why should he feel guilty for acting like any other teenage guy?

But he did. And he had walked away from Gretchen, and ignored the advances of every other girl at his house that evening. Gretchen hadn't seemed to mind, the short make-out session with Tristan more than enough to make her the star of the evening in her friends' eyes. Tristan was affected by the situation far more. He had wanted to. He had wanted to force himself to forget about her. But he couldn't.

His paper had been done for days. He had tweaked it, revised it, re-read it, and re-worked it until there was nothing more to be done. All he had done last night was stare at his ceiling, wishing that he could make the constant barrage of thoughts in his mind stop for just a second. But they kept coming, a continuous onslaught of worries and desires.

"Mr. DuGrey? I realize that the back of Miss Gilmore's head must be incredibly interesting, but I think the notes on the board might be worth your attention as well." The teacher's voice cuts into his ponderings and he shakes his head as if to shake the thoughts out of his mind entirely.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, hurriedly picking up his pen and opening up his notebook. Everyone in the class had turned to look at him as the teacher spoke, but he could see Paris still staring at him even once everyone went back to their notes. He glances at her and she looks away, annoyed.

Tristan sighs, wincing inwardly at the sound of the teacher's droning voice. Scrawling a heading on his paper, he tries to focus on the material. It is going to be a long day.

* * *

Lorelai looks up from her stitching as her daughter walks in the front door, dropping her heavy bookbag onto the floor.

"Hello," she greets Rory, looking back down at the shiny piece of pink satin in her hand. "You look mushed up. Long day at Chil-ton of homework?"

"That didn't quite work," Rory mumbles, walking over and plopping down on the couch. Lorelai shrugs, not really caring all that much.

"That's the thanks I get for trying. I thought that calling the place hell all the time might be a little boring for you."

"Well, you know what they say, the truth is usually a lot more boring than fiction."

"Who says that? I thought it was the other way, that the truth was more interesting-"

"Don't trifle me with details, my brain hurts," Rory leans her head on Lorelai's shoulder, frowning. "What are you making?"

"You know that plastic dancing porkchop that Luke has in the diner that he refuses to throw out?"

"Yes..." Rory says, eyeing her mother wearily. "Why?"

"It's getting a nice pink dress. A fluffy one."

"Dear god, why?" Rory sits up, laughing. Lorelai smiles wickedly.

"Well, I figure if I give him the choice of me putting the dress on it or throwing it out, he might give in."

"You go to extreme lengths to get what you want, you know that? It's sick."

"It's a unique, determined drive. It's a great thing to have. You only wish you were so talented."

"Yeah, you're right. You got me. It's my dream to make evening gowns for tacky dancing plastic pork products," Rory retorts sarcastically, snorting. Lorelai sets down her sewing and turns to her.

"You are far too caustic today to have that classified as clever mother-daughter banter. What happened at school?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing. So that means...Tristan's still acting distant."

"That does not mean that this has anything to do with Tristan..."

"Uh-huh. That's like saying that last Sunday at Luke's we were only up all night because we were playing with the Ouija board."

"Mom! Way more than I needed to know there."

"I just figure I tell you something personal, perhaps you'll feel the need to reciprocate?"

"If only to stop you from imparting more embarrassing images into my mind."

"So...Tristan. Still weird."

"I don't know. He could just be tired...I'm reading too much into it?"

"Well, then tell the boy to take a nap! He's been like this for four days now. It's crazy."

"It's not that he's reverted to treating me like he used to or anything. He's just...not there entirely."

"I'm sure whatever it is it'll pass. Maybe something's going on at home. Have you asked him about it?"

"I'm not sure if we're that close yet. I'm...I don't really have it figured out where we stand with one another. We're definitely friends, I know that. But as far as how good of friends we are...? Remains to be seen." Rory lays back down on the couch and Lorelai moves her sewing from her lap to the coffee table, pulling Rory's feet across her knees.

"Well, you can decide that after you see how great of a birthday present he gets you," Lorelai winks. "If he gets you Mod Squad salt and pepper shakers, then he's definitely a keeper."

"Weren't there three characters on the Mod Squad?" Rory asks. Lorelai nods.

"Yeah, I think the salt shaker has a different character on each side."

"The pepper shaker has to feel very superior, having it all to himself."

"Indeed." There is a moment of silence before Rory sighs deeply.

"Do you think it was a bad idea to invite both Tristan and Dean to the party? I'm just asking for trouble."

"You're trying to be the next soap opera star, I think," Lorelai states. Rory glares at her. "Just kidding. I think it will be fine. If Dean gets outta line, I'll simply drop kick him. If Tristan gets outta line, I'll have to take him upstairs and give him a spanking."

"You're gross."

"Yeah, you're right. That's pretty bad. You can spank him."

"I'm going to my room." Rory clambers off of the couch as Lorelai laughs at her, thoroughly amused. Rory stops in the archway before the foyer and turns around, narrowing her eyes. "And don't think that I don't know you made the first comment just because you knew I would protest and you could use the second one. I'm onto your little schemes."

"Drat! Foiled again."

"Forget my room. I'm going to Lane's."

"Meet me at Luke's for dinner at 6?"

"Are you gonna be insane still?"

"Of course. But I'm planning on finishing this dress right now. Don't you want to be there to see the look on Luke's face when I give it to him?"

Rory pretends to think for a moment as she pulls on her jacket.

"Yeah, actually, that would make my day 100 better."

"Now you see why I harass him so much."

"No, Mom, you harass him because you're in love with him."

"Oh yeah..."

"I'll see you later."

"Ciao," Lorelai calls as Rory walks out the door. Rory stops on the front porch as the door closes behind her. Dean is walking across the front lawn toward her house. Rory frowns slightly and then sighs. She really didn't want to deal with him right now. The prospect of a little low-key hang time with Lane is very appealing and this is just another obstacle in the way.

"Hey, Rory. Where you going?"

"I was heading over to Lane's."

"Good thing I caught you. Mind if I walk you over?"

"Um, sure. Sounds good," Rory replies, stepping down off of the porch and falling into step with him as they head toward town. "Lane said you guys had a horrible chemistry test today. How did that go?"

"It went fine," Dean shrugs. "Just another test."

"Oh, well...that's good, right?"

"Could've been worse. Listen, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."

"About what?"

"I want to work on your newspaper with you."

"What?" Rory can not keep the surprise and anger from immediately becoming evident in her voice.

"I want to be a part of it."

"Dean...come on."

"What? You don't think I could be good at it?" Rory looks up and down the street before crossing to the other side, picking up her pace and walking a few paces in front of Dean. He catches up easily. "I think I could help."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but...you know about sports and mechanics, Dean. This is a music-oriented publication, it's not exactly up your alley."

"Music-oriented publication? Rory, stop talking like you're fifty. It's a high school newspaper. And if Lane can work on it and Tristan can work on it, I don't see why I can't," Dean retorts, on the verge of whining. He catches himself and stops for a moment before continuing. "Okay, this isn't going how I planned. I just...you're going to be spending a lot of time on this thing, obviously, and I'd really like to be involved. That's all."

"If this is about Tristan..." Rory stops and glares at him, annoyed. "If you think this is going to be an opportunity for you to come there and claim me are your property, you're wrong."

"Rory, it has nothing to do with me claiming you, for god's sake. I'm just trying to be a part of your life. Which is growing increasingly hard these days."

Rory looks away from him and starts walking again, Kim's Antiques in sight. Dean walks beside her silently, wondering if he should keep talking or just let her think. They remain quiet until they reach the while picket fence surrounding the Kim's house. Rory stops in front of the gate and turns to her boyfriend.

"Tristan's coming to my birthday party on Saturday."

"Excuse me?"

"If you can prove to me that this is really about spending time with me instead of keeping an eye on me, you can write whatever you want for the paper. But if you do anything that can be remotely construed as vindictive toward Tristan, I'm going to be really angry."

Dean bites back the angry words forming in the back of his throat as he hears Rory's ultimatum, maddened by her defending Tristan DuGrey so adamantly. Instead he forces a grim smile and nods his head.

"Fine. I'll see you on Saturday."

"Good." They nod at each other in unison and Dean turns and walks toward the market to go to work. Rory rolls her eyes and swings open the gate and walks up the walk to the Lane's front door. Lane meets her in the foyer.

"What was that about?"

"What?"

"You and Dean outside? You didn't look too happy from the view I had from my window."

"Why, you little spy."

"Come upstairs and dish."

"There's little to talk about. Boys suck. All of them." Rory declares as she follows Lane up the stairs to her bedroom.

"All of them? That's a little harsh. Why are you against the male species? Dean being stupid?"

"Dean's a pain, Tristan's a pain, and if Henry asks me about you one more time, he'll officially be a pain too."

"He's been asking about me?"

"Only every time I see him. Sometimes twice in the same day. How he thinks I'll have an update on you between sixth and eighth period, I just don't know."

"He's so sweet."

"No. Stupid. Boys are stupid," Rory reiterates as they go into Lane's bedroom. Lane sits down on her bed and looks at Rory with compassion.

"Tristan is still playing the avoidance game?"

"Yes. Only it's not avoidance, it's...god, I don't know what it is. It's not like he won't talk to me or that he runs away when he sees me."

"I know. It's just that he will barely look at you, yada yada yada. And the status of that behavior has not changed."

"Nope."

"And Dean?"

"Getting worse. He just asked me if he could work on the paper with us."

"What?" Lane shrieks.

"That was my reaction." Rory sits down on the bed and then flops backward, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of frustration. "I still really like Dean and I want to keep dating him, but he's making it impossible."

"What did you tell him about the paper?"

"I said that if he could act mature at my birthday party in the presence of Tristan, I'm willing to give him a chance on the paper."

"This party is going to be more interesting than the one when you turned eight."

"It's going to be crazy, especially if my grandparents come again."

"Are they going to throw you another Friday night party?"

"No. Since my birthday technically falls on a Saturday this year, my mom managed to convince Grandma that it wasn't necessary. After last year, I don't think it really took that much work on her part."

"Good to hear." Lane hops off of her bed and kneels down on the floor. "Hey, you need to be cheered up?"

"Oh yes, please!" Rory sits up, a smile lighting her face. Lane lifts up the floor board that covers her miscellaneous section and takes a CD out. She holds it up with a grin and a laugh.

"The Muppets Greatest Hits."

"Lane, you are so incredibly awesome, have I told you that?" Rory stands up and Lane just gives her a modest shrug.

"I do my best. Let's pop this baby in and then plan a way to get all the men on earth to act like Pacey on Dawson's Creek."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay. Bad analogy. But his character always behaves in an impossibly perfect boy way. It's not natural."

"Neither is watching that show."

"Hey, I don't watch. I just hear people talking about it in homeroom."

"Sure, sure..." Rory teases as Lane puts on the CD.

"Just listen to The Rainbow Connection and stop being a brat," Lane demands jokingly. "Think about Kermit the Frog. He was a great guy."

"Kermit the Frog?"

"You don't see that?"

"Well, he did love and respect a woman who was headstrong, individualistic and career-oriented and he never questioned her goals or beliefs. And she was a pig. That's gotta count for something," Rory thinks about it out loud and Lane nods in agreement.

"Exactly the reasons I had."

"Great minds think alike."

"So what I secretly wanted for my birthday you probably got me?"

"Not telling. That's a surprise," Lane replies. "And I think your mom got that thing you were thinking about."

"How do you know?"

"What the thing is or that Lorelai got it?"

"Both."

"Because I am a psychic diva of the highest order."

"Ah. Well. That explains everything."

"You're ignoring Kermit again."

"Oh yes, right. Silence."

* * *

Rory weaves her way through the rows of lockers and girls, trying to ignore the busy, mindless chatter of weekend plans and romantic scandals. Gym class had been long and excrutiating, forty-five minutes of trying to avoid the volleyball at all costs. She had been remarkably successful today; she had come in contact with the white rubber ball of pain just twice and had managed to hit it without too much humiliation. As a bonus, Paris had been on the other team so interaction was limited to glares through the net. Stopping at her locker, she spins the dial and opens it up. Eagerly she pulls out her clothes, going from one uniform to another.

"He's an amazing kisser, you have no idea," Gretchen Madison's voice echoes clearly into Rory's ears as her sentence trails off into a happy sigh. "And his body..."

"Don't tell me that you guys did it," Tori Adams replies. Rory is about to ignore the idle chatter when suddenly the conversation becomes all too interesting.

"No, though I wish we did. Tristan DuGrey must be unbelievable in bed..."

"I've heard stories..."

Rory stops buttoning up her blouse, staring into her half-empty locker as if stunned.

"How come you didn't tell me about this before?"

"Well I could've sworn that I told you on Monday...I must've told Delilah...I mean, I couldn't get him out of my head all weekend."

"Are you going to hook up again?" Tori asks, rounding the corner and finally coming into Rory's view. Gretchen follows momentarily, adjusting her tight, tailored blouse. "Lord knows that Tristan's attention doesn't stay focused on one person for long." Both girls laugh and Rory could swear that Gretchen looked at her, smirking. The two girls breeze by, Tori accidentally hitting Rory in the shoulder with her bookbag.

"A girl can hope, can't she?" Gretchen giggles, pushing open the swinging door to the locker room and disappearing from sight. Rory stares after her for a moment and then shakes herself back to her senses, quickly finishing getting changed and closing her locker. Shaking her head, she picks up her bag, runs her hand self-consciously through her hair and tries to shake off the sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach.

Exiting the locker room, she barely has time to walk two steps before she wants to run back inside and hide. Tristan...and Gretchen Madison? What was that? How could she not have known? Why didn't he say anything?

"Rory." Paris cuts into her thoughts, stopping her in her tracks forcefully with her hand. Rory, not really paying attention, tries to keep walking for a moment before realizing why she can not move.

"Paris. Hi. Can't talk right now."

"Well you're going to have to."

"I...not right now, Paris. I can't..." Rory shakes off Paris' grasp. Paris just stops her again.

"I saw that look on your face," she states vehemently. "You like him."

"Who?" Rory plays stupid, trying to move past Paris once more. Paris follows her down the hallway.

"Your face fell right onto the floor the second you heard Gretchen. You should have seen yourself. It was hilarious. Does Tristan know that he's conquered the heart of the one girl he thought he couldn't have, or is he still under the impression that you think of him as a friend?"

"Paris, you know, if this is all you have to do with your time, maybe you need even more extracurriculars. Nobody should be this interested in a relationship that isn't even theirs." Rory picks up her walking speed, wanting desperately to shake both the strange feeling she has as well as Paris.

"I just think that if I had someone worship me the way that Tristan worshipped you, I wouldn't have been so stupid about it. Every girl in this school would love to be in your shoes and now that it is another girl in your shoes, you finally realize what you passed up? How trite. How predictable. How pathetic." Paris shakes her head in overdramatic despair and then turns and walks away, leaving Rory alone. Sending one final glare after her, Rory starts toward her next class.

"Hey, Mary," Tristan greets her, his voice slightly lower than normal. He gives her a slow smile as she sits down in front of him. Rory forces a tight, awkward smile, feeling almost angry and resentful at the mere sight of him. Opening up her notebook, Rory berates herself for feeling that way. I don't have the right to be angry, she reminds herself. And I shouldn't even care, Tristan should hook up with whoever he wants to.

"Are you okay?" Tristan asks, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Rory glances at him to appease him, quickly refocusing her gaze back on her notes. "You're really pale."

"I'm always pale."

"More so than usual."

"I'm fine."

Luckily for Rory class started then, saving her from any further conversation with Tristan, or anyone, for that matter. Her mind was racing, her own thoughts giving her an immediate headache. Her imagination kept conjuring up an image of Tristan and Gretchen sitting in some elaborate, lavishly decorated study in some huge mansion, making out in front of a huge, warm fireplace, like some horribly cheesy romance movie. It was disturbing and unsettling.

As soon as the bell signaling the end of class rang, Rory jumped up from her seat. She picks up her things rapidly, purposefully avoiding Tristan's inquisitive gaze. Hurrying to her locker, she doesn't have to look back to know that Tristan is following her. He stops at her side, gently flicking a piece of her wayward hair out of her face for her.

"What's going on?"

"I'm getting books from my locker. The day's not over, you know, we do have more classes," Rory replies, snippily. She curses herself, wishing that she could just hide the way she's feeling and pretend that everything is all right. Tristan raises one eyebrow at her but does not make any retort.

Instead, he opts to set his hands on her shoulders and rub them gently.

"Are you worried about the test for-" He stops mid-sentence as Rory shrugs off his touch. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're lying."

"I should be asking you what's wrong. You're the one who has been acting strange all week." Tristan frowns at her comment, knowing that what she said was true. "And now you try to act all concerned, as if you haven't been pushing me away for the past four days...but of course I now know why."

"You do?" Tristan asks before he can stop himself, surprised.

"Gretchen Madison?" Rory shuts her locker, her voice cracking. "I mean honestly...Gretchen Madison!" Not knowing what else to do, Rory spins on her heel and walks away from him as fast as she can, feeling undeniably stupid. Why had she even brought it up? Why had she said that? Ignoring Tristan calling for her to come back, Rory ducks into the girl's bathroom, wishing the day was just over so she could go home and hide.

_To be continued ..._

* * *

A/N: Reviews are love. Thank you for all of yours and please keep them coming.


	11. The Difference

_Chapter 11: The Difference_

Lorelai prances into the living room, throwing confetti around haphazardly. Sookie is buzzing around in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on Rory's birthday cake, which is in the shape of an oompa-loompa this year. Lorelai stops her random showering of colored plastic bits and looks around, as if a thought has just occurred to her.

"Sookie, where's Rory?"

"In her bedroom, I think."

"Ah." Snapping her fingers, Lorelai hurries toward Rory's bedroom door, knocking on it lightly. "Rory, are you finished getting changed?"

"You can't make me wear this."

"I totally can," Lorelai snickers, jiggling the doorknob. "Now open up, I wanna see." After a long groan and a moment of silence, the door slowly opens up and Lorelai shrieks in glee. Sookie races over, giggling at the sight before her. Rory tips her brown top hat in their direction obligingly, frowning slightly.

"Lorelai, it's exact! Except for the hair. You couldn't find a Gene Wilder wig?"

"It's very hard to find anything that resembles that man's hair," Lorelai explains in frustration. "I tried."

"I feel so stupid."

"Oh, Rory...you can't blame that on the costume..." Lorelai teases, walking toward her daughter with a sly grin. Rory rolls her eyes. "But seriously, you don't want to wear it? I thought you'd be into this! You were when I thought of the idea."

'"I know I was, I just...I'm not in the mood to dress like Willy Wonka tonight," Rory sighs. "I'm not in a Wonka mindset."

"Maybe you need more sugar."

"I've had tons."

"Still not enough."

"Come on, Rory, you can lick the frosting spoon," Sookie offers, going back to the table and holding up a plastic spatula covered in bright green frosting. The look on Rory's face declines the offer without the need for words. Lorelai's smile droops, and she reaches out and touches her daughter's arm comfortingly.

"Is something wrong, hon?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Rory replies, tugging on the sleeve of her bright blue waist coat. "I just..."

"Want to worry needlessly about all the endless possibilities of what could go wrong tonight? Yeah, I know. Well, stop thinking about it. We did that all last night and frankly, I'm bored. So let's just stop fretting about how awkward things will be with Tristan after your little jealousy bit yesterday-"

"I was not-"

"We had that argument last night too, no need for deja vu, and yes, you were. And in addition, there's no need to worry about Dean causing problems with Tristan because the second that tall oafish lad walks in that door, I am going to warn him against it like no man has ever been warned before."

"Please don't use the word oaf to describe Dean. It's not very complimentary," Rory pleads and Lorelai shrugs in response.

"Guess it's not..." She gestures for Rory to come out of her bedroom and follow her to the living room. "But your guests are going to be here soon. You have to see the little party stuff I got going on here."

Rory follows her mother to the living room, where Lorelai picks up a small basket from the slew of baskets strewn about the room.

"I didn't quite know where to put 'em until I handed 'em out," she laughs. "But aren't they cute?" Rory takes a basket from Lorelai and looks at it.

"Willy Wonka brand candy...stroke of genius."

"Everyone gets one. Oo, and even better..." Lorelai gestures to the laundry basket sitting by the door which has been converted to a makeshift costume bin. "We've got cowboy hats and waterguns for the Michaels, chocolate suckers and liederhosen for the Augustus Galloops, chewing gum for the Violets, little golden wrapped chocolate eggs for the Veruca Salts...and of course, red scarves for our Charlies..."

"Red scarves, eh? I'd say the Charlie's got the short end of this deal. How do we decide who can take what?"

"We don't."

"We're going to have a lot of red scarves tomorrow, aren't we?"

"Ah, we'll find something fun to do with them, I'm sure," Lorelai claps her hands in delight. The door bell rings, bringing more clapping and the sound of Sookie shrieking from the kitchen.

"But the hor'douvres aren't ready!" A loud clatter arises and Sookie shrieks again. "And we now have pineapple upside down cake."

"Tristan! Why, you're the first one here. I never in a million years pegged you as an early bird," Lorelai grins as she throws open the front door. "And you're dressed casually. I never knew you owned a pair of jeans!"

"Rory advised me earlier this week that I dress like a slob or she'd never speak to me again," Tristan smiles, handing Lorelai a wrapped gift. "She said if I dressed like a Chiltonite, she'd have Luke throw me out."

"And he would have if she asked him to, so you made a wise decision," Lorelai replies, looking him up and down and taking in the dark but faded jeans, dark gray t-shirt and the unbuttoned red shirt he had thrown over it. A fisherman's hat with the Oasis logo covers his trademark disheveled hair. "Though I question the display of Oasis fanship you've got goin' on there," she taps his hat as she steps back to let him inside.

"Rory has already commented on that, no need to reiterate," Tristan starts, and opens his mouth as if to say something else. His voice trails off as Rory walks out of the living room into the foyer. "Hey, Birthday Girl," he greets her softly, a faint smile on his face. Rory smiles back almost shyly until a look from Lorelai prompts her to act.

"Hey, Tristan. Come on in," she gestures for him to follow her into the living room. Interested in seeing the drama unfold, Lorelai follows closely on Tristan's heels.

"Nice costume."

"Please refrain from comment," Rory rolls her eyes, taking off her top hat.

"Okay, well, this is for you," Tristan hands Rory another wrapped gift and Lorelai raises an eyebrow, holding up the gift she has in her hand.

"Then who, pray tell, is this for?"

"It's for you, just like you said."

"For me? Tristan DuGrey, you are just the sweetest thang," she drawls in a heavy southern accent, then plops onto the couch happily and begins tearing the paper open. "Presents are such fun." With a gasp, she lets the paper fall to the floor and holds up the box that was underneath it. "Where did you find these?"

"I heard from an anonymous source that you wanted them and I happen to know someone who knows someone. So...there they are," Tristan explains, grinning widely. Rory quickly moves to look at her mother's gift.

"Oh my god, you actually found them? I was just kidding!"

"What's going on, what's going on? Hey Tristan sweetie." Sookie bustles in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on what apparently is a slightly singed apron. "What's all the hubabaloo?"

"I have Mod Squad salt and pepper shakers," Lorelai informs her, clutching the gift to her chest and looking at Tristan as if he had given her the world. She mocks wiping a tear of joy from her eye. "My life is complete."

"Oo, Lorelai. Now you just need the Remington Steele napkin rings and you'll be done!" Sookie laughs, taking the box from Lorelai. "I'll go put these on display for you." Lorelai looks up at Rory and Tristan for a moment, and then stands up.

"Thank you so much, Tristan. If you're trying to buy my motherly affection, you're doing a wonderful job." She hesitates a moment, glancing at Rory. "I'm going to go help Sook find the exact and perfect place for those shakers. Can't be too careful, you know." Another pause. "Rory, why don't you show Tristan the awful present your great-grandmother sent you? It's in your room." Lorelai turns to Tristan before walking to the kitchen. "You'll get a laugh out of it, I swear."

"Okay..." Rory replies, wondering just how much more obvious her mother could be without wearing a flashing neon billboard. She follows Lorelai to the kitchen and then goes into her room. Tristan walks in after her, glancing back into the kitchen at Sookie and Lorelai who are pretending to concentrate all their energies on shaker placement. Rory half-smiles and gently closes the door. Standing next to him for a moment, she looks up at him and meets his gaze. The tension was too much for either of them to take and both immediately move.

"So..." Rory mutters, moving toward her desk. Tristan sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet once or twice nervously.

"So..." he echoes, not sure where to start. "I came here early in hopes that we could maybe talk about...what happened in the hallway yesterday."

"And what happened?" Rory asks innocently, picking up a book off her desk and looking at the back cover. Tristan lets out a long deep breath.

"I was hoping perhaps you'd tell me."

"I have nothing to tell you," she states, sitting down on her bed. "Unless maybe there's something you'd like to tell me."

"Such as?"

"Why didn't you tell me about you and Gretchen? Why keep it a secret? And why treat me like you barely know me all week long? I felt like you were running away and I don't think I've done anything to deserve that. Have I?"

Tristan sits down next to her on the bed, turning his body toward hers.

"Nothing happened with me and Gretchen. We kissed last weekend at my parents' party, she wanted to go further and I didn't. That's all there was to it," Tristan informs her, taking off his hat and fiddling around with it nervously. "I don't understand why you would've had to know."

"Because...because...we're friends. And friends tell each other that kind of thing. They don't hide it."

"How did I hide it?"

Rory gets up, frustrated with her mind for fumbling for a response that didn't sound like a five year old's rationalization.

"You didn't not hide it. If you wanted to go out with Gretchen you should have mentioned something. Hearing about it by accident in the locker room is not a way that I want to find out information about my friends."

"Well, frankly, my love life is something that I'd rather not talk about with you," Tristan stands up and walks to her bookshelf, not looking at her. Rory watches him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and trying to get her ferociously confused mind in some semblance of order. A million different emotions were playing against one another and she had no idea what any of them meant. Part of her wanted to hit him and tell him how awful it made her feel to imagine his lips on Gretchen's, but saying that would mean opening up a door of a million possibilities, all of which centered around the fact she was beginning to realize her feelings for him weren't strictly friendly.

Tristan's eyes move over the countless titles on Rory's shelf, the letters swirling around and making no sense. He had hoped this would be easier, that perhaps she would just come out with some perfectly reasonable explanation that sounded like the truth. He had been hoping that Rory was jealous but had tried to prepare himself for every other option. Every word that came out of her mouth didn't serve to give him any kind of hope or closure. It was making him insane.

"I guess I just don't see why you would care," Tristan mumbles, closing his eyes.

"I care because I don't think Gretchen is good for you. I think you could do better."

"I sincerely doubt it," he replies, turning around to face her. He leans against the bookshelf and uses every last ounce of willpower to muster a smirk.

"You're trying to tell me that Gretchen Madison is the epitome of the perfect woman?" Rory snorts with contempt.

"No, I mean that I don't deserve better than that," Tristan replies honestly, taking Rory aback. Her mind scrambles hopelessly for something to say for a few moments before the right words come to her.

"You deserve ten million times more than that," Rory says quietly, her voice soft and gentle. She takes a step toward him, instantly wanting to touch him, reassure him that he was worth more than that to her.

"I don't deserve you," Tristan remarks simply, stopping Rory in her tracks. He allows his gaze to fall on her and she can see that he isn't teasing. Seeing her stunned expression, he quickly looks away wishing he hadn't been so blatantly stupid. "It doesn't matter though, cause nothing happened with Gretchen so there's really no reason for this conversation." Tristan takes a step toward the door. "Maybe we should just get back out there. I'm sure other people have arrived by now."

"I didn't hear the doorbell," Rory murmurs. Tristan pauses as she walks toward him, something in her voice catching him off guard.

"Well that's probably because your mom and Sookie are sitting on the front porch, eagerly pulling people inside, ripping gifts from their hands and throwing strange articles of-"

He is cut off by the surprising sensation of Rory's lips pressed against his. A jolt of electricity surges through his body and it takes a couple of seconds to even register that what was happening was real. For a second it's as if he can't get his hands to work or his lips to respond, a momentary paralysis. Tristan feels her start to pull away when he finally gains control, kissing her back passionately and pulling her close.

Rory's mind is blank. Not blank, but rather thinking about nothing but the intense feeling that ran throughout every last little inch of her body the second her mouth hit his. Before he even started kissing her back. Now, with his arms around her, his hands in her hair and his tongue desperately dueling with hers, Rory could swear that the only reason her knees hadn't given out was because he was holding her up. She had never been kissed like this; her whole being is kissing him back, every nerve end tingling with arousal. It is scary and exciting, the power of the moment bigger than both of them.

Her fingers run through his hair, which is softer and finer than she had expected. Daringly, her hands slip across his broad shoulders and down his muscled chest. The spark had finally been ignited; all she wants to do is touch him. He presses her against her bookcase, jostling it and sending a few large volumes of poetry to the floor. Tristan still can't believe it. It is more amazing than he had ever dreamed. She feels utterly perfect in his arms, her mouth meeting his eagerly. It is nothing like the first time they kissed. She wouldn't run away crying this time.

"Rory, Dean's here!"

But she would still run away.

Rory jumps from Tristan's embrace like he had suddenly burned her and the color drains from her face.

"Oh my god," she turns away, bringing a hand to her forehead. Tristan leans his head against the bookcase, closing his eyes and bracing himself for the onslaught. But it is quiet. His eyes flicker open in time to see Rory take a deep breath and walk over and lock the door. "I'll be right there, Mom, just one second!"

She turns to Tristan, still out of breath and her eyes lit up like sparkling diamonds.

"Can we just pretend that this didn't happen until tomorrow?" She asks earnestly. "I just...this is...huge. Bigger than huge. And Dean is right outside and...I don't know what I just did. I mean, I know very well what I just did but..."

"We can Scarlett O'Hara it and deal with it tomorrow, Rory," Tristan says, trying not to let it upset him. What did he expect?

"Okay..." Rory looks around her room as if not sure what to do, then walks to the door and opens it for only a second before closing it again. "Just..."

"I won't say anything to Dean," Tristan mutters, his voice tight. Rory frowns at him.

"I was going to say that you need to know...that I know that I kissed you. This isn't..."

"A brush-off?" Tristan supplies and Rory nods.

"I just can't do this right now, not tonight. I just need to pretend everything is normal and freak out later."

"Seems rational."

"Tristan..."

"Okay," Tristan can't help but chuckle at the exasperated look on her face. "I'm surprised you're so calm," he whispers in her ear as she opens the door and she visibly shivers.

"I'm as far from calm as a person can be," she responds before pushing him away. Plastering a huge smile on her face, she walks into the kitchen and quickly proceeds into the living room, hoping to distract Dean from noticing Tristan following her out of the bedroom. "Hey Dean," Rory greets him, turning her face casually so his hello kiss lands on her cheek. "Let me take your jacket. There's all kinds of crazy stuff my mom has going on so just grab something from that bin and act like you're enjoying it or she'll probably do something to you."

"Okay," Dean laughs as Rory flits away to put his jacket in her bedroom. "How much sugar has she had?"

Rory breezes past Tristan, avoiding his eyes, and goes into her bedroom. Lorelai shimmies over to Tristan and tugs on his arm lightly.

"I won't ask why you two had the door closed or why I heard it lock, or why it took you two so long to come out, because I am a cool mom and won't humiliate my daughter at her birthday party, but I do advise that you wipe off that lovely shade of lipstick you have on," she whispers and then quickly moves away as Tristan's hand immediately goes to his mouth. "Who wants something to drink?"

Lorelai is about to go into the living room and repeat her question when the doorbell rings and she changes direction.

"Hey, there!" She greets Luke as she throws open the door. "You're prompt."

"Not all of us like to be fashionably late," Luke smirks at her.

"Am I late?"

"This is your house, Lorelai, you can't be late. I was referring to your general attitude toward arrival times."

"I could leave and come back and then I could be late to my own-" Luke cuts her off, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and then walking into the house.

"Where's Rory?" He is pulled back into the doorway before he can go any further.

"That was too short, let me do that properly," Lorelai grins and pulls him to her, kissing him passionately. She laughs gently as she pulls away. "That was more like it."

"Hello, Lorelai." Her mother's droll voice cuts in and Lorelai turns away from Luke to find both of her parents standing on the front steps, barred from entering the house by her daughter and Luke's public display of affection. "Hello, Luke." Emily nods at him, raising a critical eyebrow at Lorelai. "Are we early?"

"No, no, right on time!" Lorelai laughs nervously, stepping aside to let them walk inside. "You're actually one of the first people here."

"Well that was my fault," Richard states, straightening his collar. "Your mother was aiming for fashionably late but I insisted on leaving on time."

"I was not trying to be late," Emily shakes her head, taking off her overcoat and hanging it up herself. "Don't be silly, Richard. Now where is Rory? Richard, why don't you go find her."

"It's not that big of a house, Mom, she'll be right back," Lorelai says, rolling her eyes.

"Can you blame me for wanting to see my granddaughter? It is her party, anyway, she should be greeting people at the door like a proper hostess."

"Rory! Get out here!" Lorelai yells at the top of her lungs. Rory appears almost immediately. "Your grandparents are here," Lorelai tells her unamusedly.

"Hi Grandma, hi Grandpa," Rory says sweetly with a smile, hugging both of them separately. "Thank you both so much for coming."

"Oh now, Rory, we wouldn't miss your birthday," Richard replies with a good-natured smile.

"I see Dean is here," Emily observes, nodding at the young boy from his place on the living room couch. He gets up and starts to walk over but is stopped by Tristan walking out from the kitchen and catching Emily's full attention. "Why, it's the DuGrey boy," she says not-so-quietly to Richard, then turns to Rory. "I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

"Mom, Rory told you about the newspaper, remember?" Lorelai reminds her, knowing full well that she does remember. Tristan stops beside Rory and flashes his most charming smile at Emily.

"Hello, Mrs. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore. Nice to see you again." Lorelai makes a gagging gesture at him and he almost laughs out loud.

"It is certainly a pleasure, young man," Richard turns toward him. "You have to tell your grandfather to come down to the cluib more often. I do miss playing golf with him. Though he always was a bit of a sore loser," He chuckles.

"You played golf with Tristan's grandfather?" Rory comes into the conversation.

"I used to, yes, but I think after my game improved, Janlen decided to take a break from playing against me," Richard jokes. Tristan laughs along, slightly fakely.

"Janlen really is a lovely man, Tristan. You're very fortunate to have him so close," Emily says, patting Tristan's hand before looking to Rory. "Rory, dear, why don't you take your friend into the living room and sit down? And Richard, why don't you take Lorelai's friend here and do the same?" Lorelai grimaces at her mother before finding herself being backed into the kitchen.

"What?" Lorelai mutters.

"What? Why were you kissing that man?"

"Damn it. I really thought that once you saw Tristan you were distracted enough to not have this conversation," Lorelai bemoans.

"Mrs. Gilmore! Hello!" Sookie races over, not realizing Emily was in the midst of pressuring Lorelai for information. "I didn't hear you come in! It's so good to see you!" She half-hugs Emily, who patronizingly pats her shoulder. "Would you like something to eat? I kind of had an accident with the crab dip so you don't want that, but I made these wonderful cheese wedges! And stuffed mushrooms!"

"Maybe in a minute, dear. Do you mind if I have a word in private with Lorelai?"

"Mom, it's okay, we can go in here," Lorelai cuts in before Sookie can reply. Grabbing her mother's forearm, she pulls her into the bathroom and closes the door.

"The bathroom, Lorelai? This is hardly the place to have a serious conversation."

"It's not going to be a conversation really. How about you just listen for a change? How about that?" Lorelai states, then continues so Emily can not protest. "Luke and I are together now. It happened quite awhile ago and quite honestly I didn't want to tell you because I knew this would be your reaction. But I'm in love with him and he's in love with me, and he's a really really good man, Mom. He's sweet to me and he loves Rory, and that's all that matters. So if you could just be supportive, that would be great."

"All right."

"And just because he's not...what? All right? Did you just say all right?"

"Yes, I did. And I should also add I told you so. But that would just be mean and you know that I am not mean, so I'll just forgo that pleasure," Emily smiles at Lorelai's stunned expression. "Though I would've appreciated you telling me before this so it wasn't such a surprise, and honestly, making out like teenagers on the front porch when your daughter's birthday party is going on? That's hardly mature behavior."

"We were hardly making out..."

"I should go back out there before your father thinks I've disappeared for good. Wouldn't want to give him hope, would we?" Emily says with lighthearted sarcasm, walking out of the bathroom. Lorelai stands there for a moment, still processing what had just occurred. Sookie pops her head in, looking at her best friend questioningly.

"Everything okay?"

"What? Oh...yeah. Surprisingly."

"What was the matter?"

"She saw Luke and I kissing and I kind of hadn't told her about it yet, so I figured...huge deal," Lorelai holds her hands apart wideyl. "But it was just a little deal," she holds two fingers up with a small amount of space between them, then shrugs. "She almost seemed...I don't know...kind of..."

"Happy for you?" Sookie supplies, ducking back into the kitchen. Lorelai walks out of the bathroom, a puzzled look on her face.

"Yeah...I think that might've been it...though it's never happened before so I'm not sure..." Shaking her head, she picks up a tray from the table and helps Sookie move the food into the living room, which is now slightly more crowded; Miss Patty, Maury and Babette, Andrew, Lane, and a few other townspeople had streamed in within a few seconds of one another. Putting her party face back on, she greets everyone with a huge smile and a light laugh. "Lane, isn't your mom coming?" She asks her daughter's best friend as she hands her a drink and Lane shakes her head no with a bright grin.

"I heard about this meeting in Hartford for Korean mothers to talk about the problems they're having with raising teenagers in today's world. Or rather, Tristan found out about it."

"Tristan, you devil you..." Lorelai winks at him and he laughs.

"All I did was take down a flier and give it to Lane," he brushes it off.

"Still...a Mrs. Kim-less evening? Lane, we ought to spike your punch and take you to a strip club."

"We're doing the second best thing," Rory interjects. Lorelai gives her daughter a questioning look.

"Henry is coming," Lane supplies excitedly. "This is going to be the best night ever! Thank the lord for the Hartford Korean Society!"

"Hallelujah, Babe," Lorelai raises a glass in toast and then downs it quickly. She hands a glass to Dean, who is sitting on the armrest next to Rory on the couch. "Here, Dean. Why don't you grab a pillow and sit on the floor? That has to be like the most uncomfortable seat in the entire world." She gestures for Rory to hand him a pillow. "Dad, you want anything to drink?" She offers Richard the tray but he passes.

"No thank you, Lorelai. I am fine. I could use one of those lovely stuffed mushrooms your friend Sookie has made, however. They smell absolutely delicious."

"I'll go get you a plate," Sookie chirps, turning to dash into the kitchen and nearly knocking over Babette. "Sorry!"

"That's okay, darlin'!" Babette waves her off before sitting down on Maury's lap. "Lorelai, baby, ya gotta get a bigger place to throw these shin-digs. Rory's just got too many friends, dontcha Rory?" The doorbell rings.

"And here come more of her admirers now," Miss Patty coos, motioning for Rory to stay where she is. Miss Patty goes to answer the door and moments later Mary and Henry walk into the packed room. Lane jumps up, knocking a present off of the table and nearly tripping over Andrew's loafers.

"Henry! Hey!" she exclaims as she stumbles. She stops in front of him and straightens herself out, laughing giddily. Lorelai sets a hand on Lane's shoulder, steadying her.

"Don't be scared Henry, it's all my fault. I spiked her punch."

"She did not," Lane tells Henry before grabbing his hand and heading out onto the front porch with him.

"That's what you think," Lorelai replies with an evil grin and Lane laughs again. Emily stares at her daughter, agape.

"Tell me you did _not_ put alcohol in that young girl's drink, Lorelai."

"What if I don't tell you that? What if...I tell you to go invent a new dance move called the Siberian Steppe? What then?" People nearby chuckle but Emily does not look amused. Luke pats her on the shoulder gently.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Gilmore, Lane is completely sober," he informs her. "Lorelai is just being Lorelai."

"He says that like that's a bad thing," Lorelai snorts, looking at him.

"Thank you, Lucas, that's all I wanted to know." Emily walks to go sit down next to her husband and Lorelai cracks up.

"She called you Lucas."

"Oh well..."

"She called you Lucas. You are forever going to be called Lucas now, do you realize that?"

"I'll just correct her, Lorelai, it's not a big deal."

"The last maid they had? My mother called her by the wrong name for the entire time she worked there, no matter how many times I corrected her. You're screwed, Lucas," Lorelai pokes him and he rolls his eyes.

"One of these days..."

"One of these days what?" Lorelai prompts teasingly.

"One of these days I'm going to ask you to marry me and I'm not going to be kidding," Luke replies, wrapping his arms around her. Lorelai's face immediately sobers before a faint smile lights over her face.

"What makes you think I'm not going to ask you first?" She retorts, letting herself melt into his embrace.

Rory watches her mother and Luke from her place on the couch, smiling happily.

"That seems to be working really well," Tristan says, leaning in toward her.

"That it does," she nods. "They look perfect together."

Mary sits down on the floor next to Dean, pulling his attention away from the fact that Tristan and Rory are talking and he can't hear what they're saying.

"Hey, I'm Mary," she introduces herself.

"Hi," Dean says off-handedly before glancing back at Rory. He opens his mouth to say something to his girlfriend but Mary, not noticing that, continues her introduction.

"I'm one of Rory's friends from school, are you a friend from Stars Hollow?" She inquires good-naturedly. Dean looks back at her, obviously having missed what she just said, but not caring that much. Mary smiles gently, realizing the source of his distraction was the girl sitting just a few feet away on the couch. "I wouldn't bother."

"Excuse me?" Dean finally turns toward her completely, confused.

"Rory. She's the absolute best, but I wouldn't waste your time. She's completely gone on Tristan. And vice versa. All they have to do is realize it, it's almost funny. I wish Tristan wasn't into her...but...they just look so perfect together," Mary smiles, then stops, feeling incredibly awkward after Dean's expression falls. Rory looks toward Dean and sees Mary nervously trying to talk to him and realizes that she has been ignoring them both.

"Mary, hey!" Rory scooches over on the couch and then drops down to the floor next to Dean, her top hat falling off of her head. Tristan gets up and walks around the coffee table, sitting down on the floor next to Mary. "I see you've met Dean," she says, giving him a kiss on the cheek that seems as awkward as it does forced. The color drains out of Mary's face and her eyes widen, her mouth opening to speak but instead just gasping in air. Rory raises an eyebrow and looks at her friend quizzically. Tristan nudges her.

"Mar?"

"I'll be right back," she jumps up. "I suddenly feel like I'm going to be sick."

"Are you all right?" Tristan asks, all three of the teens on the floor whipping their heads around to see Mary dashing from the room. "She didn't look too good."

"We should go check on her," Rory starts to get up but Dean grabs her hand. Tristan sees that he's none too happy and sidesteps the land mine for Rory's sake.

"I'll go. Stay here," he tells her. "I'll be right back." He heads in the direction that Mary went, leaving Rory to be with Dean for the moment.

"Did you say something to Mary to make her upset?" Rory asks Dean and he throws his hands up defensively.

"I didn't say anything. She did all the talking," he mutters, looking away from Rory. Rory eyes him wearily and then looks in the direction that Mary and Tristan went, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Everyone is gathered around the main area of the living room, watching as Rory opens up her birthday gifts. Richard looks on fondly from the armchair with Emily by his side as their granddaughter carefully opens up the small box in her hands. Sookie hovers nearby, waiting to see her reaction. Rory is sitting next to Lorelai on the couch, Dean still on the floor by her side. Tristan is sitting at the end of the coffee table, just next to Henry and Lane.

"It's beautiful, Sookie. You didn't have to do this for me. Thank you so much," Rory says gratefully as she runs her fingers over the delicate silver bracelet that Sookie had just given her. Sookie smiles in response, obviously thrilled that Rory likes it. "Thank you too, Jackson." Jackson shrugs with a grin, knowing that he deserved no credit. All he'd done was sign the card and bring her a fruit basket to go along with Sookie's gift.

Rory sets the thin jewlery box down on the coffee table and Lane hands her the next gift, momentarily pulling away from Henry's loose arm around her shoulder.

"That wrapping paper is great," Lorelai observes, eyeing the travel-themed wrapped package. "Whose is that?"

"It's from me," Tristan speaks up, and Rory could've sworn he blushed slightly as he adjusted the hat on his head. "It's just something I found in the mall."

"It's really awesome," Rory remarks.

"You could've just bought her the wrapping paper, sweetie, and she would've been thrilled," Miss Patty says, chortling with laughter.

"Gilmore Girls are easy to impress, right, doll?" Babette practically swats Lorelai's arm as she heads back to her seat with Maury by the window. Luke snorts and in turn Lorelai swats him. Dean shifts in his seat, trying incredibly hard not to say a word. The whole night every sentence that popped into his head was an insult for Tristan and he knew the second he let one escape Rory would be pissed off. Tugging at a rip in the hem of his jeans he tries to focus on the pattern in the carpet instead of Rory's beaming face as she continued to look at the pictures of Prague, Paris, London and Amsterdam which decorated her gift.

"Oh, open it already, Ror, we're anxious to see what Richie here bought you," Lane teases, sticking her tongue out at Tristan. He rolls his eyes at her as Rory laughs.

"Okay, okay. It's sad though, I don't want to rip the-"

"Just open it, Rory," Dean demands a little too loudly and then looks back down at the carpet sheepishly. Rory is flustered for a moment and then wordlessly tears the paper off of the boxed gift. She stands to take the present out of the box and then a smile of delight caresses her face.

"Wow, Tristan, what is all this?" She asks, sitting back down and setting the large, packed basket in her lap.

"Take a look for yourself," he replies, happy that she seems to like it. Lorelai leans over and starts poking through everything with her. There was a travel coffee mug with Rory's name engraved on it, a package of Starbuck's coffee and a gift certificate to Barney's, a package of Twinkies, a bag full of arcade tokens, a mix CD, a package of batteries, a journal, a bookmark, a gift certificate to Andrew's Book Shop, a framed picture of Lane, Mary, Rory and Tristan holding up their newspaper, a small wrapped package with a tiny bow and oddly, a little figurine of Bugs Bunny dressed as the devil.

"Oh my god," Rory laughs as she sees the figurine and she picks it up. Dean looks at her oddly. "Totally."

"That's what I thought," Tristan nods while laughing with her, the two of them obviously taking part in some private joke.

"That's so great!" Rory giggles.

"I won't even ask about the Looney Tune devil, so, hey, what are the batteries for?" Lorelai inquires, holding them up. Rory grins sheepishly.

"I'm always complaining that my batteries die in the middle of a bus ride home and I don't have any with me so then I'm bored and music-less."

"Well, these ought to hold you for at _least_ a little while," Lorelai states, putting the twelve-pack back into the large basket.

"It's awful when the music just stops, isn't it?" Maury adds, tilting his sunglasses down his nose. "Ain't nothing less cool than taking a ride without being able to groove."

"It sure stinks all right. One time we took a trip to New York and the tape player broke...he just went bananas," Babette cries, acting pained by just the memory.

"I'm sorry for the gift certificate to the book store but I looked on your shelf and I just couldn't think of a single book that you would want that you didn't already have-" Tristan starts.

"It's wonderful, Tristan, thank you."

"You forgot something, Rory dear," Emily nods toward the basket.

"Tristan, this is too much stuff, you really shouldn't have."

"It's nothing, Rory, really," Tristan tries to let it slide, feeling awkward underneath the death glare Dean is giving him. "I wanted to."

"Besides, he can afford it," Henry laughs. Lane tilts her head up to look at him.

"Hey, so can you, so you better have put your money where you mouth is there, buddy." Lane pauses. "Unless you're saving up to buy me a drum set. In which case, go you!" Henry smiles and kisses Lane on the cheek playfully. "God I'm glad my mom isn't here."

"Me too," Henry agrees wholeheartedly and everyone laughs. Rory finishes unwrapping the small gift and clicks open the velvet jewelery case with a small gasp. Dean quickly whips his head around to look.

"It's the Irish symbol for friendship," Tristan explains as Rory lifts the silver necklace and Claddaugh charm out of the box. It sparkles in the light, the tiny emerald between the small hands glistening.

"This is amazing...it's so beautiful," Rory says in a half-whisper, almost in awe. Lorelai leans forward to look at it, as does Emily.

"Is that from Harold's?" Emily asks Tristan and he nods. "It's remarkable."

"Excellent choice, Mr. DuGrey, that's where I find all of Emily's jewelery," Richard nods in approval, causing Dean to shift in his seat once again uncomfortably.

"Thank you so much, Tristan," Rory clambers up off of the couch and wraps her arms around him, not even thinking about Dean for the moment. Dean gets up and walks out of the room silently and Sookie and Lorelai exchange worried looks. Lorelai follows Dean into the kitchen quickly.

"I just needed a break for a second, Lorelai," Dean tells her the second she enters the room, knowing why she has followed him. "I'm not going to create a scene."

"Good...because they're just friends, and it would be really crappy of you to ruin her birthday because you can't accept that," Lorelai states as Dean turns to look at her.

"I'm trying to remember that," Dean replies honestly. "It's just hard to when she's hugging him and acting like he's the best friend she's ever had."

"Hey. _I'm_ the best friend she's ever had and don't you ever forget that," Lorelai retorts, crossing the room and poking him in the arm. Dean is quiet for a moment and then he sighs.

"My present sucks compared to his."

"Rory is going to love whatever you get her, no matter what," she assures him. "Now why don't you get yourself something to drink, take a minute to yourself, and come back into the living room. And act like that adorable boyfriend Rory usually sees and not the sullen guy you've been all night, okay?"

"Okay," Dean nods, forcing a smile for Lorelai's benefit.

"All right. I'll see you in a few minutes." She heads back to the living room, hoping that she had just done the right thing. She hated to think about how severely Dean's heart is going to be broken when Rory finally realizes she's been dating the wrong guy. Sighing slightly, she plops down on the ground next to Luke and watches as Rory begins opening up another gift.

"Everything okay?" Luke asks quietly. Lorelai leans her head on his shoulder for a moment before answering.

"Just doing a little damage control," she whispers and Luke nods.

"Dean upset?"

"Yeah," she lifts her head and moves closer to him. "I think Tristan and Rory kissed earlier."

"What?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Tristan usually wears Pale Rose lipstick," Lorelai informs him quietly.

"Dean doesn't know yet?"

"Completely in the dark," Lorelai responds. "This is going to get messy."

"Well I'm here if you need me," Luke offers. "To run interference, talk to Dean, beat up Tristan, whatever..."

"Thanks, Luke. I appreciate that." She kisses him on the cheek and then rests her head on his shoulder again. "Oh, by the way, I think you got the stamp of approval from my mother." Lorelai catches her father looking at her from across the room with a faint smile. "And perhaps even my father too."

"Really?" Luke turns his head to look at her, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah. Today has just been a strange day."

"Apparently."

* * *

Dean sets his empty cup in the sink and puts the container of milk back into the refrigerator. It is quiet in the kitchen, compared to the living room. Empty trays and leftover food fill the counter and table and he contemplates starting to clean up just so he wouldn't have to return to the party. Coming to the conclusion that that probably wasn't a very good idea, he takes a step toward the living room but then stops, remembering that Rory's present is still in his coat pocket. He had saved up all of his paychecks for the past six months and borrowed money from his parents to buy her a first edition of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Now, after all the personal I-know-you-so-well endless amounts of presents that Tristan had given her, his just seemed like a beat-up, faded book that she'd already read millions of times, even if it was a first edition.

Walking slowly, Dean goes into Rory's bedroom to find his jacket, rifling through the pile which is tossed on her bed. Pulling out the big baggy hooded sweatshirt, he retrieves the present from the front pocket and tosses the piece of clothing back onto the pile. Turning to leave, he stumbles over a book on the floor.

"Ow, shit," he curses lowly, wincing in pain. He bends down to pick the heavy poetry anthology off of the floor and goes to put it back on the shelf for Rory when a bookmark falls out of it. Sticking it back between the pages, he realizes it's not a bookmark, but a strip of pictures from those photo booths in malls and arcades. A strip of pictures of Rory and Tristan, no less. Dean can feel his heart start to crumble and immediately starts rationalizing the fact that Rory has the pictures, inwardly repeating the words that Lorelai had spoke earlier.

But it's hard to believe that Rory and Tristan are just friends. Within the last frame, he could've sworn they were on the verge of kissing one another, locked into one of those stupid gazes that only happen in soap operas and horrible romantic comedies. And worst of all, Dean knew within an instant that Rory had never looked at him like that. It made him want to throw up. Sitting down on the floor, he stares at the small photos in a daze, every little thing that Rory ever said about Tristan and every moment that he had felt her drifting further and further away from him echoing inside of his head.

She was already gone. Mary was right. His relationship with Rory Gilmore was over and neither of them had even realized it.. It would only be a matter of time before Rory woke up and then he'd be out of the picture forever.

Biting back tears which threatened him, Dean stands up and shoves the book onto the shelf angrily.

"I'll get it, hang on," Tristan's voice cuts into the silence and seconds later he enters the bedroom. He stops in his tracks, seeing Dean standing there. "Um, hey."

"Hey," Dean says, just looking Tristan up and down. He couldn't decide what he hated about him the most. They stand there for a moment, staring at one another, before Tristan moves.

"Rory needs a paper and pen for Lane to write down something, so..."

"They're in the top-" Dean says but Tristan already has it open, paper in hand and rifling for a pen. "Drawer."

"Got it," Tristan replies. He closes the drawer and looks at Rory's boyfriend, not quite sure what to do. He had always envied Dean and hated him for what he had, and even now the feeling isn't gone. Because he still has Rory, no matter what had happened in this same room earlier. There was still a chance Rory would simply choose Dean over him. But the fact that maybe she wouldn't made Tristan feel sorry for him, even if just for a moment.

The silence is staggering.

"I was just getting out Rory's present," Dean responds after it becomes evident that neither of them are moving.

"Oh," Tristan mumbles, taking a step toward the door. "What'd you get her?"

"None of your business." Dean retorts curtly and Tristan raises his eyebrows.

"O...kay. Nevermind then. I'm sure she'll love whatever you got her," Tristan replies, a slight smirk of sarcasm just dancing along his voice. He couldn't help it when provoked. Dean rolls his eyes and then gestures toward his hat.

"You like Oasis?"

"Quite a bit, yeah."

"Figures," Dean snorts, heading toward the door.

"That's what Rory's reaction was, but I changed her mind."

"Oh did you." He speaks in a matter of fact tone rather than a question.

"You know it," Tristan responds and Dean looks away, not even wanting to think about the fact Tristan is right. "I should get back out there, they're probably wondering what's taking so long. Excuse me," Tristan continues with overdone politeness, walking past Dean and out into the kitchen. Dean clenches and unclenches his fist a few times, taking deep breaths and trying to overcome the urge to run after and punch him.

"Here, Ror," Tristan hands her a pad of paper and a pen as he plops down onto the ground haphazardly, his leg accidentally brushing up against hers.

"Thanks," she replies, flipping it open and turning her attention to Lane. "Now how do you spell the name of that band?"

* * *

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Lorelai. It was a marvelous party," Miss Patty croons, stroking Lorelai's hand. "Rory, I hope you had a wonderful birthday."

"I did Miss Patty. Thank you very much for everything."

"My pleasure, sweetheart," she replies. "Now where is that lovely little cutie-pie friend of yours? I want to thank him for the dance." Miss Patty asks, peering back into the living room to the now sparse group.

"I'm right here," Tristan walks out of the kitchen with a charming smile already plastered on his face. He stops next to Rory, taking Miss Patty's hand and kissing it gently. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Patricia."

"Oh, you are just the most handsome thing this planet has ever seen, dearie," Miss Patty almost swoons, taking her hand and holding it to her heart. "Rory, you are just the luckiest girl."

"Yes, to have a friend like Tristan and a boyfriend like Dean, what more could a girl want?" Lorelai cuts in, ushering Miss Patty toward the door.

"I'll see you both tomorrow, pussycat. Have a nice night, especially you, Tristan," she manages to add before Lorelai closes the door.

"You are either really brave or really desperate for attention to placate that woman," Lorelai says to Tristan, shaking her head in dismay. Tristan laughs.

"I don't see the problem, she's harmless. I can suck it up and dance with her for two minutes if that's going to make her so happy," Tristan says, shrugging. Lorelai and Rory exchange stunned looks.

"You do realize that she's going to want to relive those two minutes every single time she sees you-"

"You see her in the market and she's going to fawn."

"You see her in the street she's going to go all a flutter."

"You can't run."

"You can't hide."

"All you can do is wait for the attack."

"And pray that she won't try to kiss you."

"I thought it was nice," Luke stops the pair from continuing to rattle off the dangers of Miss Patty.

"Then why didn't you dance with her?" Lorelai turns to him.

"What am I, crazy?" Luke exclaims, shaking his head. Everyone laughs. Dean enters from the living room and wraps an arm around Rory's slender waist.

"What's so funny?"

"We're just reliving Tristan's Strictly Ballroom moment."

"I'm so lucky I had my camera ready," Lorelai adds as Dean removes his arm from around Rory. "The look on your face when she dipped you was priceless."

"I think I got whiplash," Tristan says. "She dips rather fast." Seeing the look on Rory's face as Dean pulled away from her and knowing Dean's not looking too thrilled either, he decides to liberate himself from the conversation. "I'm gonna go back to helping Sookie clean up the kitchen now."

"Yeah, you better. If Sookie is all alone in there, something is liable to catch fire," Rory tries to joke lightly, her voice cracking.

"Hey, I heard that!" Sookie calls, followed by something falling onto the floor. "Oh, shoot!" Tristan hurries to help her, leaving the rest of the group to laugh. Lane walks back in from the front porch, a dreamy smile on her face.

"Someone is on cloud nine," Lorelai teases and Lane nods happily.

"Try cloud thirteen. Or fifty, even. If there is such a thing," she giggles. "Henry kissed me good-bye...and we're going to meet at the mall again next weekend to see a movie."

"That means I'm going to have to cover for you, doesn't it?" Rory inquires.

"If you don't mind."

"This'll be what, the fifth time?"

"You know you love aiding and abetting," Lane laughs.

"Oh you two with your shenanigans," Lorelai pretends to scold them. "Come on Luke, let's go upstairs and let them plot their next elaborate scheme."

"You need to go upstairs to do that?" Rory raises an eyebrow.

"Hush," Lorelai scolds her again, grabbing Luke's hand. "We have been so good all evening with your grandparents here."

"Okay..." Rory says as if giving her permission and Lorelai claps her hands happily.

"Oh goody. Come on," she pulls a bright-red, embarrassed Luke up a couple of stairs toward her room. "Tell Sookie we'll be down to help in a few minutes."

"They're just so cute," Lane giggles as they disappear into Lorelai's room. "So, seriously. Would you be okay to do that again this weekend? I mean, you and Tristan can come with like last time, if you want." Lane stops, realizing Dean is standing right there. "Or even Dean. Dean can come. If you're not working. Are you working?"

"Probably..." Dean sighs, then looks at Rory. "I'm going to go to the park for awhile...can you come when you're done here? We need to talk."

"Oh. Okay..." Rory frowns, wincing inwardly. Dean leaves and Lane turns to Rory with a questioning look.

"What's that about?"

"I'll fill you in later. I have a feeling there's going to be a lot more to tell after we talk, especially since we're meeting in the park."

"Why the park?"

"Neutral fighting ground. We almost always have our squabbles at town landmarks. The junkyard, the gazebo, the streetcorner...The park is just another forboding location."

"Oh. Well, the park meeting isn't good then."

"Not at all. Especially considering certain extenuating circumstances."

"Which are?" Lane starts, then stops. "I know. Later. Well, call me. No, actually, I'll call you. My mom will kill me if the phone rings late at night. Midnight sound good?"

"Make it twelve-thirty. I have a feeling this might take awhile."

"Sounds good. Good luck with whatever this is."

"Thanks," Rory waves good-bye as Lane lights down the front porch, so happy about Henry that it seems like her feet are barely touching the ground. Smiling at her best friend's behavior despite the heaviness in her mind, Rory turns to go to the kitchen and surprisingly finds it almost entirely clean already. "Wow, you two work fast."

"We make a good team," Sookie nudges Tristan in the ribs. "Wouldn't have expected a blue-blood like this boy to be into the manual labor but boy he sure can work fast!" Tristan nearly blushes and Rory has to stop herself from smiling warmly at the mere sight of it.

"I do what I can," Tristan brushes it off.

"No, you're just a horrible suck-up," Rory teases, picking up a stray paper plate from the counter and tossing it into the trash. "I'm gonna get changed out of this stupid costume really fast. Be right back."

Rory re-appears a few minutes later wearing jeans and a baby blue sweater.

"You look nice," Tristan compliments her, tying up a garbage bag and gesturing toward the door.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Garbage bins are out there, right?"

"Right. Here let me take this one," Rory picks up the second bag and follows Tristan out onto the porch. The night air is chilly and Rory shivers as she closes the lid on the garbage can.

"Cold?" Tristan sets his hands on her arms and rubs them gently before pulling her into an embrace. Rory lingers in his touch for a moment before pulling away.

"We need to talk about before, now." She tells him earnestly and he sighs, nodding. He steps back from her, like he's preparing for the worst. "What are you doing."

"I'm backing away from you. Somehow that will lessen the blow when you inevitably tell me it was a huge mistake."

"You think it was a huge mistake?"

"Me? No, I don't. I just assumed you did."

"I don't. I mean...I do...I mean, I don't know what I think yet." Rory looks away, slightly frustrated with herself.

"Okay..."

"No, not okay! I should know. It shouldn't be this complicated."

"All relationships are complicated."

"Not with Dean. With Dean, everything is simple. Up until this point...simple."

"Well then you're clearly doing something wrong."

"Obviously I am if I'm kissing you."

"So what am I, then? Just a symptom of your and Dean's failing relationship? I really hoped I was at least more than a side effect but I guess-"

"That's not what I meant," Rory says, shuffling her feet in the moist grass, watching little droplets of water collect on her shoes. Tristan sits down on the back porch steps, running his hands through his hair. Rory shifts her gaze to him and watches him in silence. "What are you thinking?"

"What am I thinking?"

"Right now."

"I'm thinking I would give anything if you would just tell me that you like me."

"I do."

"And that you're attracted to me."

"I am."

"And that you'd rather be with me than be with Dean."

"That I don't know yet, Tristan. I'm sorry," She sits down next to him, putting a hand on his knee. "I need a little bit of time. Until a couple of hours ago I didn't even realize I was...that kissing you was something that I...I just need time."

"Okay..." Tristan breathes out slowly after a few minutes of quiet. Rory smiles slightly, not really feeling all that much better. "I should go home." He begins to stand up but Rory catches his hand, standing up also. He gazes at her and she gazes back, trying to find the right words to verbalize her request. Tristan leans toward her, understanding what she wants without her having to speak.

They melt into one another, their lips meeting one another's in a passionate kiss, the kind that could be felt all the way down to the tips of your toes before it surges back up your spine and sets your entire body on fire. Rory revels in the feeling of his body pressed against hers, the sensation of his hardened muscles moving beneath her touch almost too amazing to register. He reacted to her like Dean never did; his kisses ran through her so deeply it felt as if he was trying to reach her very soul. She felt wanted, so seductive and sexy. Dirty, dirty thoughts were running through her mind at a rapidfire pace and the memory of that faint concept called morality was the only thing holding her back from slipping her hands underneath his loose shirt and touching his hot, tight skin.

Tristan felt warm all over, his blood turning to liquid heat and surging through his veins. Kissing her just got better the longer he did it. Her delicate fingers tugging gently on his tousled hair and the way she fit perfectly into his body...the idea of staying like this forever definitely crossed his mind. He pulls his mouth away from hers and slips down to her neck, illiciting this tiny, heavenly moan from the back of her throat which reverberated in his mind as quite possibly the sexiest thing he'd ever heard. Suddenly Rory loses the battle with her self control and Tristan feel her hands slide down his chest and then underneath his shirt, slipping underneath his wife beater and caressing his flat stomach. Accidentally or maybe not, Rory pushes her body tighter against his, her thigh rubbing between his legs. A groan escapes his lips before he can stop it and he immediately seeks Rory's lips again.

Out of breath and frightened by the overwhelming power of her own arousal, Rory pulls away and rests her forehead against his, gasping for air. Tristan is equally exhausted.

"What was that?" Rory whispers, more shocked with herself than with him. Tristan chuckles lowly.

"That was just in case I never get to do it again."

"Oh...well, maybe we should do it just...one more time...you know...just in case," Rory replies, her lips brushing against his.

"Yeah...just in case..." His words trail off as Rory's lips meet his.

* * *

Rory climbs up the porch steps, glancing back at Tristan as he heads toward the street where his car is parked. She waves with a smile as he disappears around the corner of the house and then goes inside, her insides still melted together from the heat of the moment, her pulse racing and her face flushed. Hearing the door close, Lorelai hurries in to the now empty kitchen.

"The party favors went over great, people just loved-" She takes one look at her daughter and knows. "_Again?_"

"Again, what?" Rory says self-consciously, running her fingers through her hair.

"Oh come on. Something tells me your lips didn't get all swollen from eating a popsicle."

"How would you know? Maybe I have a secret popsicle stash. Where's Luke?"

"He went home. Early morning delivery."

"Oh."

"So, uh...what's the deal?"

"The deal with what?" Rory replies innocently.

"Rory." Lorelai shoots her a withering look.

"Okay, so...perhaps, maybe I kissed Tristan," Rory mumbles fast.

"Rory."

"Okay! So I kissed Tristan a lot."

"Rory..."

"Stop saying that. I know this is not good. I know it's terrible and that I am a terrible, terrible person."

"Yes, you are," Lorelai agrees, smiling to show she's just joking. "But for all your talk you really don't seem like you're flipping out about it." Lorelai sits down at the kitchen table, looking at her daughter questioningly. "I thought you'd be a wreck."

"I am. I'm just...still in the stunned I-can't-believe-I-just-did-that phase. Did that twice phase, in fact."

"Is this kissing Tristan routine you've got going on going to be a regular show? Cause if so, you might want to tune Dean into some reality programming. And get me a TV Guide cause I'd really like to be caught up on the matter here...I think I missed an episode somewhere."

"I don't know what's going on. I just know that when I kissed Tristan I didn't want to stop there. And that's not a good thing."

"Not a good thing for Dean, anyway," Lorelai remarks. "And wait, not really a good thing for me, thinking about that as a mother. How about we just stick to Dean? Dean's great. Perfect, in fact."

"If he's perfect why am I kissing Tristan?"

"Because you're a normal teenager with raging hormones and Tristan has a nice ass?"

"It's more than that. Though he does have a particularly nice-"

"Stop right there, missy!" Lorelai throws up her hands, closing her eyes. "I want to keep the image of a nice, innocent Rory in my head."

"The whole innocent thing just got lost about five minutes ago when I officially became a two-timing slut," Rory retorts glumly.

"No, you're not...you're a Supermarket Slut, get the title right. You're a Literary Lolita."

"Thanks," Rory frowns. "I better go talk to Dean. He's waiting for me."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Um..." Rory wavers as she puts on her jacket. "Can I answer that when I get back?"

"Good luck, ya whore," Lorelai winks, trying to lift her spirits.

"Night, mother."

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Thank you all again. Reviews are love.


	12. Confusion

_Chapter Twelve: Confusion_

"Hey," Rory says quietly as she sits down next to Dean on the grass, moist with the night's dew. He moves his head in slight acknowledgment of her presence but he does not look at her. "I'm glad you wanted to talk, because there's kind of something...I want to talk to you about too. Rather...something I have to tell you."

"Something about Tristan, right?" Dean mumbles, picking at a blade of grass and tossing it aside. Rory frowns.

"Yes..."

"At least we're in accordance as to what this little meeting is about, right?" he says, finally looking at her. "That will save us one argument."

"We're going to be arguing?" Rory asks, taken aback despite her preconceptions. She had expected a fight herself, but she was the one privy to the information that would cause the fight, not him.

"You tell me."

"I kissed Tristan," Rory blurts out, very meekly, but Dean hears every last little syllable.

"You kissed him." He repeats, closing his eyes. "God, Rory..." he stands up, facing away from her. Rory cringes but forges ahead.

"I kissed him twice. Tonight."

"You mean you kissed him twice tonight on top of the time you kissed him before?" Dean's voice cracks and Rory stands up as well, moving toward him.

"No, it all happened tonight. Nothing happened before tonight. It was a total surprise."

"It was a surprise? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Dean gazes at her, hurt, confusion and anger filling his blue eyes. Rory wavers slightly, pangs of guilt and shame running through her.

"No...it's not...I just..." She glances down at the ground, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "I don't want you to think that this is something I've been hiding from you...this wasn't...it wasn't intentional. I didn't mean to kiss him."

"What, you tripped and fell face first into his face? Your lips ran into his and you forgot to pull away?" Dean snorts. "I don't think so, Rory. You don't accidentally kiss someone. You kissed him because you wanted to. I know you wanted to."

"Dean-"

"I could tell just by looking at the two of you, do you know that? All night long. I knew that you were lying about just being friends with him."

"I wasn't lying, Dean," Rory replies and it's obvious he doesn't believe her. "I wasn't! This only happened-"

"Tonight, I know," Dean cuts her off, angry. "You got that point across. It doesn't matter. It could've happened two seconds ago and it wouldn't change a thing. Your lips were on someone else's. Someone who wasn't me." Dean points at her accusingly, his voice getting louder. "That's cheating, Rory. Surprise or no surprise, that's cheating."

"I know," Rory says quietly. She closes her eyes, not wanting to see Dean's betrayed face. "I don't know why...I don't know why I did it, it was just...there."

"You did it because you're attracted to him, Rory. You like him and you like him more than me."

"Dean, that's not true," Rory protests, reaching out to touch him and stop him from moving away. He shoves off her hands. "I still love you, Dean, this has nothing to do with you."

"Do you think I'm stupid? Nothing to do with me - you must think I'm an idiot." He chuckles sardonically, shaking his head. "You kiss someone else and then say that it doesn't involve me?"

"That's not what I meant. I mean that..." Rory trails off, not sure what she means.

"_It's not you, it's me_, right? What a cliché," Dean turns and starts to stalk away but then stops, turning back and advancing toward Rory. She steps back, slightly scared. "I knew it the second you said his name. The second you told me you two have been friends all summer. It was over between us at that very moment. I tried to be supportive of you and- and I tried not to be jealous but I should've known better. I never trusted him and I should've never trusted you."

"Don't say that, please don't say that," Rory pleads. "Until a few hours ago, Tristan and I were just _friends_, Dean. This wasn't...it wasn't some elaborate scheme to betray you," she tells him, wishing that he would at least see that she had never meant to hurt him like this, had never deceived him about her relationship with Tristan on purpose. "I didn't know that I felt anything but friendship toward Tristan and I couldn't be more sorry for how things are turning out."

"Your friend Mary was right, you know. She said that...I mean, she told me outright..." Rory looks at Dean, confused.

"What did Mary say?"

"She said that you were in love with him, you just didn't know it. She said anyday that you'd..." Dean breaks off, tears threatening his eyes. "And I knew it too. I _knew_ it and all I could do was sit there and watch it happen."

Rory is quiet, not sure what to say. She hadn't really thought things through before coming; she had only known she had to tell him. But what did she want? Was this the end for them or was this just an obstacle for them to overcome? Was Tristan going to be a mistake she had to try and forget or a completely new beginning?

Dean reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the rectangular gift, looking at it for a moment before handing it out to her. Rory eyes him, unsure.

"Take it, I sure as hell don't want it," he mumbles. She takes it gingerly, clueless as to what to do with it now as Dean stands there, watching her. Silence hangs heavily in the air, weighing down on both of them. Moving the gift nervously between her hands, Rory finally works up the courage to speak.

"I don't want this to be the end, Dean. But I know things can't go on the way they've been going with us. I'm just...I'm very confused right now and I don't really know what I want."

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter, just-"

"No, it doesn't. You're not the one who gets to decide, Rory. I don't care what you want. All I know is I never want to see you again."

"Dean, don't-"

"Goodbye, Rory." He turns and walks away. Rory makes a move to go after him but stops herself, knowing that she shouldn't. It would just make things worse. Tears finally escaping and running down her cheeks, she watches through blurry eyes as the tall boy who'd been her first love disappears around the corner, not looking back. Clutching his gift in her hands, she wheels around and runs toward home, never wanting to see her mother more than she did at that moment.

* * *

"Rory, I need to talk to you," Mary hurries to catch up with Rory, who is barreling down the hallway at a breakneck pace. Rory glances at her friend then at her watch, continuing on her rushed journey. If she made it to her locker in thirty seconds, she could grab her books and be gone before Tristan even got into the hallway. She'd made it through half the day thus far without having to see him.

"About what?" Rory spins her combination quickly, dumping her bookbag on the ground unceremoniously.

"About something that happened at your party," Mary says breathlessly.

"You're going to have to narrow that one down quite a bit," Rory remarks half-under her breath, throwing her locker door open. Metal clangs against metal and Mary jumps, already agitated enough to be startled by it.

"I might have said something really horrible to Dean about you and Tristan," Mary states, looking like she had been suffocating from the weight of that secret on her chest.

"What?" Rory grabs out her English text book and turns to Mary; she hadn't really heard what Mary had just said, too occupied with her own worries.

"I didn't know he was Dean when I introduced myself to him, he didn't tell me, I swear." Mary grabs Rory's hand, pleading with her earnestly. "I saw him looking at you and I told him that he shouldn't even try because you were secretly hot for Tristan and Tristan was hot for you...you get the picture...And I know I shouldn't have said that even if it wasn't Dean because your relationship with Tristan is none of my business. Which it's totally not and I know that. I was just trying to be amusing and interesting cause I thought he was cute but that was before I knew he was your cute. Honestly. I know I shouldn't have even opened my mouth but I did, and I said that, and Dean heard it, and now I don't know what I've done." Mary finishes her nervous rambling confession and waits in breathless anticipation for Rory's reaction, fearing the worst.

"It doesn't matter," Rory says quietly, turning back to her locker and closing it. Mary looks forlorn, reading Rory's sad face as a bad sign.

"It does, Rory. I am so sorry. Me and my stupid mouth. Now you know why I'm so shy, I hate to talk; I can barely hold a conversation without ruining someone's life!" Mary cries out and Rory throws a look up and down the hallway, self-conscious and wary. "I'm sure now Dean thinks that...I don't know what he thinks and I only hope he knows I'm a stupid fool and that you would never do anything with Tristan to hurt him. God, he didn't already say anything, did he? Did I screw up your relationship?" Mary is frantic. "Tristan tried to ask me what was wrong on Saturday night but I just couldn't tell him. I was so embarrassed and so distraught and I...Rory, I couldn't be more sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Mary. It was an accident. And Dean already told me about it," Rory assures her, her voice flat. She doesn't really seem to care one way or the other. "Besides, you were right," she shrugs, glancing up and down the hallway again.

"About what?"

"Tristan and I."

"I was?"

"Yes. I kind of...let's just say I screwed things up royally."

"What happened?"

"Tristan and I kissed. Dean and I broke up. Things are a mess," Rory picks up her bag from the ground. "I have to go. Don't say anything to anyone about this, please."

"I won't," Mary replies, still a bit stunned. She was so worked up over her own mistake and involved her own worry that Rory's news had taken her completely by surprise. She hadn't even seen it coming, broadsiding her like a Mack truck. She had expected Rory to be upset, worried; but instead she barely reacted at all.

Rory, anxious to get away, turns to go blindly and gets a mere two steps down the hall before crashing right into someone. She lifts her head to see who it is and immediately her heart starts racing, her body freezing up entirely. Of course it had to be him.

"Hey," Tristan says and is met with wide, terrified eyes. Blinking quickly Rory averts her gaze, stammering something inaudible and awkwardly stumbling past him, looking down at the floor. Tristan watches her run from him, hurt and confused. He looks to Mary in hopes of finding any kind of clue as to what had just transpired but Mary just gathers her things and hurries away, not wanting to even attempt to say anything in response. He is left standing in the crowded hallway, never in his life feeling more alone.

* * *

"Ror? Sweetie?" Lorelai knocks on her daughter's bedroom door softly, not sure if Rory is sleeping or awake. She creaks open the door slightly and sticks her head inside. Rory is curled up under her covers, not asleep but not doing anything else. Just staring off into space. Lorelai sighs and walks into the room, approaching Rory slowly. "Rory, you've been laying like that since you got home from school. It's been three hours. Will you at least eat something?" Rory shakes her head no slightly. "Luke brought over something especially for you. He even made a whole thermos of the best coffee he's ever made and if you don't drink it soon I'm going to have to steal it on you."

"You can have it," Rory murmurs, closing her eyes. "I don't want it." Lorelai sits down next on the edge of the bed, reaching out and stroking her daughter's long brown hair comfortingly.

"I know this sucks, honey, but laying in your room in the dark and refusing to eat is not going to make any of this better," Lorelai tells her gently. "You know I'm all for wallowing but wallowing involves being parked in front of the tv and eating immense amounts of food. This semi-catatonic coffee-denying state you're in doesn't qualify as wallowing and you're beginning to scare me."

"I'm fine, Mom," Rory rolls over and curls up more tightly, shrinking away from her mother's touch. "I just want to lie here."

"Have you talked to Tristan?" Lorelai asks and Rory immediately pulls her covers over her face, hiding herself from reality.

"No, I haven't talked to him. I haven't talked to Dean, I haven't talked to anyone. Nothing has changed."

"You should talk to him," Lorelai says, tugging on the edge of the comforter, trying to pry it from Rory's grasp. Rory's groans and lets the blanket go, not feeling like it's worth it to put up a fight. She eyes her mother, wishing that she would just turn out her bedroom light and let her be. If she could only fall asleep, then it would be fine. Every waking moment was spent re-living every moment of her break-up with Dean. The guilt and shame over what she had done to him was pounding into her mind, creating such tension within her own thoughts that she could've sworn she was waging war on herself. Every inch of her body hurt and she couldn't stop reminding herself that she deserved every bit of pain she felt.

"I can't talk to him. Either of them." Rory mumbles, not looking at her mom. Lorelai plays with a frayed corner of the bedspread, getting more comfortable on the bed as Rory shifts slightly and inadvertently makes more room for her.

"Why not?" Lorelai inquires, slowly prodding her on.

"If I try to talk to Dean - and he actually listens which would never happen, because he hates me - he's inevitably going to ask if I want to be with Tristan and I won't have an answer. Then there will be a whole other cycle of me trying to convince him to listen to me though even I probably wouldn't know why I'd be doing it."

"And Tristan?"

"If I talk to Tristan it's going to be the same thing. He's going to want to know where he stands and I don't know that yet. I want to be with him but I also don't want to say good-bye to Dean." Rory turns her head, frowning at Lorelai. Lorelai continues to pick at Rory's bedspread, cleaning off some lint and trying not to show her happiness that Rory is finally talking.

"Do you think you're just scared to let Dean go? I mean, is dating him something that you really and truly want to continue to do or are you frightened to admit that your feelings for him have paled in comparison to how you feel about Tristan?"

"I don't know."

"I really don't even want to think about this but since I've always prided myself on handling things differently than my mother, I'm going to bring it up." Rory looks at her wearily, getting a sense of where she's going. "I've gotten the sense from you that...your feelings for Tristan...whatever they may be...exist on the level of friendship, common interests, and stuff like that...but they also have a strong..." Lorelai pauses, searching for the right way to put it. "Um...carnal undertone?" Rory blushes faintly and Lorelai presses on, not wanting to linger on that longer than necessary. "And while I'm certainly not encouraging you to...act on these said feelings, I must admit in spite of my own motherly reservations that you have to have that if you want a successful relationship. And I don't think you have that...oomph...that spark, with Dean. You're passionate about loving Dean but you're not passionate about Dean." She stops for a moment and waits to see if Rory is going to say anything. She remains quiet.

"I like Dean, Ror, I really do. He's sweet, he respects you, he respects me...he's a good kid. And he was a good boyfriend for you. He was a perfect first kiss and a great first dance and a lot of other great firsts I'm sure but...you've grown past all that now. Firsts shouldn't always be your lasts, you know. I hate to see Dean get hurt but I know that things happen for a reason, and I _know_, more than anything in the world, that you would never have kissed Tristan and thrown away your relationship with Dean on some silly impulse. You wouldn't do that and then say it didn't mean anything."

Rory sinks back down into her mattress, knowing that her mother is right in many ways but still not able to face the truth.

"Could you leave me alone for awhile please?" Rory asks weakly. Lorelai nods, a bit crestfallen. She had thought she was making progress but Rory somehow seemed even sadder than she was when Lorelai had walked in. Rubbing Rory's leg through the blanket, Lorelai stands up.

"Call me if you need anything," she murmurs, turning off Rory's light again and walking silently out of her bedroom. Rory sighs deeply in the darkness, somehow finding the shadows more comforting than light. There was a strange fellowship within the deep dank grays and blacks and the turmoil in Rory's mind and heart. All she wanted to do was lie there, still, wondering what it would take to just forget about Dean and Tristan for just one minute. A minute of peace wherein she wouldn't feel her heart slowly and painfully cracking into a thousand different jagged pieces. Lying there did not bring any peace at all. Half an hour passes by before she realizes the thoughts running amuck in her head were about to collide any second and she would completely lose it.

Sitting up in her bed, she switches her light back on and looks around her bedroom, wanting to find something, anything that would keep her mind off of the pain. Walking to her bookshelf, she grabs her copy of _The Westing Game_ and sits back on her bed, propping her pillows up.

_The sun sets in the west. Just about everyone knows that. But Sunset Towers faced east. Strange! Sunset Towers faced east and had no towers. This glittery, glassy apartment building stood five stories high on the Lake Michigan shore. Five empty stories high. Then one day- _

Rory snaps the book shut five minutes later, having re-read those same few lines over and over and not being able to process a word. Throwing the book down on the ground, she crosses to her desk, scrounging for a notebook to write in. She opens one up and discovers it's her English notebook. A folded piece of paper falls out. She opens it, curious, and discovers it's one of Tristan's notes. His handwriting burns her eyes, his innocent blathering about the stupid teacher and ideas for the Beat so strange and innocent to read after all that had happened. She reads it about five times, every time the urge to call him growing stronger. Finally, she gives in, going into the kitchen to get the cordless from it's place on top of the toaster. She returns to her room and begins to dial when her gaze falls upon the wrapped gift Dean had given her the night they broke up. It had been on her desk, buried under a week's worth of school work, uncovered by the rifling she had just done moments before. Turning off the phone, Rory walks over and picks it up, her heart in her throat. The question is bearing down on her.

Slowly and carefully she opens the package, handling it delicately as if it were a cultural artefact. Casting the paper aside she flips the book over, tears springing to her eyes. Rory runs her fingers over the delicate gold leaf lettering, engraved into the old, worn leather of the hard cover. Pride and Prejudice. She lifts the cover gently, not wanting to stretch the binding if it was unwilling. There is a piece of paper inside of it.

_Rory-_

_  
I know better than to write inside of a first edition; kind of wrecks the whole point of preserving it, right? But I had to inscribe something for you, so I hope this is okay. I just wanted to tell you to have the best birthday you've ever had and that I feel like the luckiest person alive to share it with you. I love you always and forever, Dean_

Too exhausted and hurt to even cry, Rory closes the book and turns off her bedroom light. Curling up on her bed and not caring enough about being cold to pull up the covers, she lays there in complete darkness. Her mother was right; it wasn't wallowing. It was the 'depths of despair' and she didn't have the energy to get out. Maybe she would be able to stop it tomorrow. But not today.

* * *

Tristan closes his locker slowly, watching Rory from down the hallway. She is at her own locker, digging out her books with about as much joy as a prisoner awaiting his own execution. He had been watching her for a week now, watching and waiting. He didn't know what else to do, not that she was giving him much choice in the matter. She said she needed time to figure out what she wanted and at the time she told him that, he was unsure what that meant. He didn't think it would entail having to leave her completely alone, or having to act like they weren't friends, but apparently it did. She was avoiding him like the plague. She flitted around like a bumblebee strung out on crack, rushing from one place to another so fast he didn't even have time to say a word.

Nothing in the world hurt him more than to have her see him and purposely turn in the opposite direction. His heart ripped open when she ignored him in class and dodged his questioning looks. She was last to arrive at classes and first out of the room when the bell rang. She ran to her bus everyday after school and had taken to eating her lunch in the library, alone. He had spoken to Mary and apparently the next issue of The Chilton Beat was already in progress, minus his contribution.

He looks down at his books for a moment and then back to her, wondering if he went and talked to her now, if she would stay instead of running away. Taking a deep breath, Tristan walks down the hallway toward her, pausing silently next to her as she closes her locker.

"Hey," he greets her timidly, unsure. He hated feeling clueless and he hated being basically at her mercy. But he had no choice. Rory's big blue eyes flutter up to his and widen, startled, his voice echoing inside of her mind. Then came the familiar feeling. Panic. She immediately looks down at the ground.

"Um...hey," she mumbles. She shifts on her feet, like she's getting ready to bolt.

"Can we talk?"

The words hang in the air and Rory debates them, wondering what she should do. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to deal with any of it. Rory fidgets nervously and her eyes close for a moment, wishing that he wasn't standing so close, wishing he didn't smell so good.

"I have to go to class..." Rory finally squeezes out, glancing up at him and taking a step to leave.

"Rory...can't we at least..." Tristan stops her with a gentle but firm hand. She stops, her eyes falling on Tristan's strong fingers encircling her tiny wrist. "Can you at least tell me what you're thinking? I can't stand having you avoid me like this."

"I'm not avoiding you," Rory denies, though she knows it's pointless. Tristan shoots her a look. "Okay maybe I am but shouldn't that have sent you a clear message? I'm not ready to talk about this yet. Hence the whole avoidance thing." She pulls away from his touch.

"So you're just going to ignore me," Tristan states point blank, obviously hurt.

"Well...yes." Rory admits as if she hadn't really thought about it that simply before. "I guess I am."

"Fine," Tristan mumbles, turning to leave. "I have to go to class."

"Tristan-" Rory starts, not knowing what she's doing, only feeling that she couldn't let him go.

"What?" He asks as he turns back around. She stands there silently, feeling like an idiot. Words are out of her grasp. When it becomes obvious Rory is at a loss, Tristan shakes his head and continues walking away from her. Rory stands there, still searching for her voice and completely unable to find it. Frustrated and angry with herself, her face begins to crumble.

Determined not to cry, Rory blinks away the tears that were forming and takes a deep breath. It does no good; her eyes keep welling up, making it harder and harder to keep them from falling. Desperate to get out of the hallway, Rory dashes toward the bathroom, not caring that she must have looked like the biggest idiot in the world while doing so. All she wants to do is hide.

Pushing open the door, she is met with a large thud and a half-scream half-yelp.

"What the hell is the matter with you, you freak?" Paris yells as she covers her forehead, closing her eyes in pain. They snap open to reveal her brown eyes, darkened with anger. "Should've known it was you." She glares at her, rubbing her forehead. "Only you would be so stupid."

"I should've pushed the door harder," Rory snaps back and storms past her. "If I had knocked you unconscious then at least one good thing would've happened today. It could've been a reversal of fortune." She continues cuttingly and then walks into a stall, throwing her bag onto the ground and locking the door. Not even caring that Paris is right outside, Rory sinks to the floor and lets the tears fall, unable to stop them. She hadn't even cried once since everything had happened. She'd just been holding it back and willing it in and telling herself she had no right to cry. But at this point she didn't care that all of her problems were of her own doing. The tears were hot as they dripped down her pale cheeks, sobs choking in her throat.

Paris stands silently for a moment after Rory closes the stall door. She could hear Rory crying and she was bewildered by how that made her feel. Paris stares at the cold, dark brown door, wondering what to do. Her usual self was saying to just leave and that Rory Gilmore's problems were of absolutely no interest to her. In fact, they probably had something to do with her oh-so-perfect boyfriend whose very existence was just a reminder that Rory had everything she did not. But there was a small voice inside of her mind that was telling her that she should do something. A little reminder that Rory had once tried to be her friend, despite how things worked out at the end.

Taking a timid step toward the stall, Paris clears her throat nervously.

"Um...Rory?" Paris asks. Receiving no answer, she takes another step and knocks on the door lightly. "Rory, are you okay?"

"Paris, please leave me alone," comes Rory's muffled reply, sounding so harsh coming from someone usually sickeningly sweet. Paris glances around the empty bathroom self-consciously before replying.

"Look, you're obviously not okay so you might as well tell me what's going on. I'm an excellent investigative reporter, I'm going to find out anyway. Save me the research time and maybe I can actually help," Paris states matter-of-factly, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. Rory shifts inside the stall, still crying heavily. "Need I remind you that you just hit me in the face with a large, heavy door? I'm being awfully nice considering. In fact, I'm doing you a favor. I should be suing."

"I don't need nice, I need to be alone. Please just go away," Rory pleads, leaning her head against the cold cement wall of the bathroom. Paris eyes the closed door with a mix of contempt, hurt and worry before backing away.

"Fine. You're going to be late to class, just so you know," she remarks as she walks out. Sure enough, thirty seconds later the bell rings. Rory debates just staying locked inside all period but knows that's not really a tangible option. Groaning out loud, she opens her eyes and wipes her face with the back of her hand, then slowly rises to her feet. She opens the bathroom door slowly and glances at herself in the mirror, realizing she looks like a disaster area. Deciding she doesn't care, she lugs her heavy backpack onto her shoulder and heads to class.

The hallway is completely empty. Luckily Rory's history class is only two doors down. She walks in and it feels like every eye in the room is pointed at her. Her teacher looks at her sternly, crossing the room toward her.

"Miss Gilmore, how nice of you to join us. Do you have a pass?" He holds out his hand, waiting for one. Rory coughs slightly, feeling like a fool. She must look like one, her clothes all rumpled, her face streaked and her eyes red.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't feeling well, I..." she trails off, knowing it's no use. Surprisingly, her teacher moves a little closer to her and looks at her carefully.

"You certainly don't look well. Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

"No...no..." Rory stammers. "I...I'm feeling better now. I should stay here." A few people snicker at her for passing up the chance to get out of class and she glances up. Tristan is sitting in his usual seat in front of hers, staring at her. The instant he notices she's looking he looks back down at his notes, pretending he couldn't possibly care less. Rory shifts her focus, knowing anyone watching her must've caught her looking.

"All right. You may take your seat, Miss Gilmore. You haven't missed much, just the opening statement concerning today's material. It's on the board."

"Thank you," Rory nods and walks to her seat. Tristan lifts his head slightly and looks at her as she passes by but doesn't say anything. He goes back to writing, facing toward the front of the room. She sits down slowly, staring at the back of his blond head. Across the room, Paris watches the pair, sensing that Rory's tears were directly related to the tension so clearly present between the two of them. The sight of Tristan diligently paying attention to every word the teacher said while Rory can barely stay focused is enough to confirm her suspicions that something is askew. Ignoring the small but ever-present hope that Tristan would one day get past Rory Gilmore, Paris decides that the matter interests her greatly. Whatever was going on, she was going to find out.

* * *

Rory steps out into the bright afternoon sunlight and sighs, unhappily but relieved. Only a few more minutes and she would be on the bus toward home, one week of hell officially over. She is looking forward to the two day break before another begins. She looks across the parking lot as it fills with students racing toward their fancy cars, hoping against hope that her bus was a little early and was pulling up to the stop right at that moment. Thrilled to find that by some grace of god it is, she picks up her pace and heads for its safety.

But the sight of a familiar dark green pick up truck causes her to come to a screeching halt. Dean is parked right where he was the last time he had come to Chilton, when they had gotten back together. But from the expression on his face, he wasn't looking for a repeat. Rory hurries over to him, anxious for him to tell her what he wants and then go.

"Dean-"

"I'm not here to talk to you, Rory. Where is he?" Dean asks as he brushes past her, heading toward the school's entrance. Rory desperately tries to cling to his arm and stop him from whatever mission he's on, but he's determined.

"Where is who? Dean, what are you doing here?" He pays no mind. "Stop!"

"I want to talk to Tristan."

"Dean, no. Come on. This is stupid."

"I want to talk to the jerk!" Dean throws off her panicky hands, angry. It's too late now. Tristan walks out of the school, completely unaware Dean is waiting for him. Dean quickly sees him and is in his face before Rory can even shout out a warning. "You."

"You," Tristan says tightly in response as Dean stands across from him, the power of their glares equally hateful. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here?"

"I'm assuming you came to try to get Rory back. It should be pretty easy, she certainly doesn't want me," Tristan remarks, glancing over in Rory's direction. Rory opens her mouth to protest his wrong words but Dean is already there.

"I wouldn't have to be coming here if you hadn't stuck your face where it didn't belong."

"Hey, sorry to burst your bubble, but she kissed me. It wasn't the other way around," Tristan replies, backing away from Dean. "And I'm not going to fight about it, if that's what you came here for."

"It doesn't matter who kissed who. Nothing ever would have happened if it hadn't been for you. You're a snide little spoiled rich kid who always gets what he wants and if you don't get it, you think it's all right just to take it. Well it's not. Rory is not yours."

"She's not yours either."

Rory watches helplessly as the two boys continue to battle verbally with one another, afraid that any second someone is going to throw a punch. A crowd is gathering, all eager to catch the action.

"She would be if you hadn't stolen her away from me."

"Would you stop it!" Rory intercuts, trying to come between them but it's too late. The empty space is quickly narrowed as Dean steps forward and pushes Tristan backward, daring him to hit him back. Tristan looks at Dean for a moment, as if choosing whether or not it's worth it. Dean pushes him again and Tristan swings, hitting Dean in the face. He reels back, his hand immediately going to his lip. "Stop it!" Rory yells, putting herself between them. Neither of them make a move, not wanting to hit Rory by accident if they go at one another again.

"This is between me and him now, Rory," Dean spits out while still glaring at Tristan. He wipes a trace of blood from his cut lip. "I want him to know exactly-"

"This is so stupid!" Rory cries out, trying to keep Tristan from fighting back at Dean once more. "If you're going to be mad at someone, be mad at me, Dean. Tristan didn't do anything except be my friend."

"And kiss you twice."

"I've kissed her three times," Tristan corrects him. "We kissed last year too."

"What?" Dean exclaims, turning his gaze to Rory. "What is he talking about?"

"It was when we were broken up, it has nothing to do with this!" Rory defends herself. She whips her head around and glares at Tristan. "What are you trying to do?"

"Just getting it all out in the open. That way when you go back to him, he at least knows I meant something then and I mean something now. Wouldn't want to be wiped out and forgotten completely, now would I?" Tristan says to her, anger crawling along his voice. He's obviously still upset about what had happened in the hallway and wasn't going to let it go now.

"I never said I was getting back together with Dean-" She turns to Dean before he can open his mouth. "And I didn't say I was with Tristan now either. You're both being idiots. Complete idiots. I'm not worth fighting over." Dean looks at her long and hard. The crowd of students waits with bated breath to see what happens next.

"Yes, you are," Dean tells her and Rory's eyes flit up to meet his. They exchange a long look as Dean's words ring in her ears, heavy with sincerity and deeply-ridden with pain. Dean turns away and walks through the now dispersing crowd toward his truck. Rory sits down on the steps of the school entrance, emotionally wiped out. Biting back tears as they threaten to fall for the second time that day, she doesn't have to look to know that it is Tristan who sits down next to her.

"I'm sorry, Rory," he murmurs quietly. He reaches out and tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her small, delicate ear.

"Don't be sorry," Rory mumbles back. "This isn't your fault."

"It is." She turns her head toward him. He sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "I've wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you. I've always wanted you. This whole time we've been friends I've always wanted something more. When you kissed me...I shouldn't have kissed you back. You clearly didn't want this and I should have known that. Any fool would've seen that. I was just willingly blind, I guess."

"Tristan, don't act like this."

"Like what?" he asks, sitting back up straight.

"Like I'm purposely trying to hurt you. I'm not. I wanted to kiss you. It was my choice. I could've stopped at any point but I didn't. Instead, I did it again. How does that seem like I didn't want it?"

"If this week has made anything clear, Rory, it's that you have no idea what you want," Tristan gets up, shaking his head.

"I want you, Tristan," Rory tells him honestly. "To tell you the truth I want you more than I'd ever admit." Her eyes drift down to her hands, embarrassed. "I'm scared and I'm confused and there's all this pressure to make a choice; it's only been a week."

"I know that, Rory. And I know you. You've already made a decision. You're just too afraid to say it out loud. It has nothing to do with time or choices or whatever you say. It's just a matter of breaking someone's heart. Who's heart is it gonna be?"

The silence that fills the space between them is broken by the sound of the bus' airbrakes lifting as it pulls away from the stop. Rory's face drops as she watches it drive away, too late to even think about running after it.

"I can give you a ride home," Tristan offers. Rory shakes her head no. "I can't even give you a ride home now? God, Rory."

"I can just go to my grandparents. I have to be there tonight for dinner anyway."

"That's not until six o'clock. And you can't wear your uniform."

"They'll understand."

"Can I at least give you a ride to their house?"

"I can walk."

"Rory..."

"It's not far."

"Yes it is. What harm is it going to do to be in the car with me for ten minutes?"

"I can't, Tristan."

"Fine," Tristan mutters, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you on Monday then." He slowly walks down the steps and goes toward the parking lot. He glances back at her, hoping that she would give him some sign that she'll change her mind, but she is just standing there.

Rory starts across the parking lot, dreading the five mile walk to her grandparents' house with a book packed full of textbooks and heavy notebooks. She is halfway down the street when a car pulls up next to her.

"Tristan-" Rory turns to the vehicle, stopping short when she realizes it's a black BMW beside her. She bends down and sees Paris behind the wheel. Rolling her eyes, Rory stands back up and starts walking. Paris quickly moves ahead a few feet, stops the car and gets out.

"Rory, get in," Paris demands across the roof of the car. "I'm going your way anyway. Don't be stupid."

"At least I know you'll never be able to kidnap any children. An advance like that would surely scare any kid far, far away."

"Aren't you cute. Would you get in?" Rory hesitates. "I'm not going to sit here and wait. Make a decision."

Rory looks around, and seeing that there are no better options and since walking isn't too appealing, she sighs and gets in the passenger side. Paris climbs back in and starts the engine.

"Thanks," Rory says lowly, feeling strange just being inside Paris' car. She takes in her surroundings, noticing the extreme cleanliness and order of the vehicle, as well as its fully loaded luxuries.

"Don't mention it," Paris states as she pulls back onto the road. "That was certainly an interesting little brawl today."

"You saw it, huh. No wonder you're so eager for me to get in. You're going to kill me and dump my body somewhere, aren't you."

"Exactly how many episodes of America's Most Wanted do you have on tape?"

"You're channeling the funny today," Rory retorts, not amused. Paris eyes her as she comes to a stop sign.

"And you're just full of joy," Paris replies. "What's going on with you and Tristan?"

"You didn't pick up on the main plot points as the two of them played cavemen this afternoon?" Rory focuses out the window and Paris shrugs.

"I gathered that you kissed Tristan, apparently twice this time, Dean found out about it, he dumped you, and after stewing about it for probably far too long, he burst a vein and came running over here after his school let out to regain his wounded pride by bashing Tristan in front of the Chilton population and you. Which surprisingly didn't happen. I thought they were both two seconds away from a deathmatch. You're lucky, you and Tristan would've been in serious trouble with Charleston if that had happened."

"Yes, I'm so lucky," Rory snorts, shaking her head in dismay. "God, how did my life get so messed up?" She puts her head in her hands, frustrated and upset. Paris rolls her eyes at her former friend.

"Please, Rory. You have two guys fighting over you, one of whom is Tristan DuGrey. I can name at least fifty girls right off of the top of my head that would love to be you right now."

"Grass is always greener."

"Is this it?" Paris nods to the left out the window.

"Yeah, make a left." Rory checks the street sign. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it is, doesn't it?"

"I was just wondering why you're being nice to me. I thought you liked Tristan."

"I do, always have," Paris replies frankly and honestly, knowing denying it would be useless. "And I know him better than anyone else."

"So...why am I sitting in your car, partaking in halfway normal conversation with you? I figured you, more than anyone, would be angry now that this is out."

"Tristan likes you, Rory. He feels something for you that he has never ever felt for _anyone_. I can see that even if you can't. I have never in my life seen him so willing to set aside his ego to follow any girl around like some demented puppydog."

"You make it sound so romantic," Rory remarks, trying to ignore the weight of Paris' words by focusing on her candid no-bullshit delivery.

"Girls have not wanted him before. Don't think you're special just because you said no to him for so long. It has nothing to do with that. You were the first girl he's ever made an effort to be friends with. He worships you. And if you hurt him, you will live to regret it. I'll make sure of that." Paris slows down. "This is their house right?" Rory nods. She pulls in the driveway and stops. "I'm not kidding, Rory."

"I didn't think you were."

"Just as long as we're clear."

"Crystal," Rory replies, opening up her door. "Thanks for the ride."

"Don't mention it."

Rory steps out and walks to the front step with a heavy heart. Paris backs out of the driveway and disappears down the street, leaving Rory alone with her thoughts. But not for long.

"Rory?" Emily says as she opens up the large front door. "I thought I heard a car. What are you doing here?"

"Hi Grandma. I missed my bus," Rory informs her as Emily steps aside to let her come in. "Is it okay if I stay here until dinner?"

"Oh, how terrible. Well of course you're more than welcome to stay. I'll have Gertrude whip up an afterschool snack for you."

"She doesn't have to do that," Rory says but Emily will have none of it.

"Nonsense, you must be starving. Why don't you go to the kitchen and I'll call your mother and let her know where you are." Emily ushers her toward the kitchen, letting the front door close by itself.

* * *

Lorelai meanders through the market, trying to resist the appeal of running back over to aisle three where she had unfortunately witnessed a wonderful display of Hostess Cupcakes on sale. Biting her lip and summing up her willpower she moves over to the fresh produce section, determined to buy at least an apple. Or a banana. Or something.

"Damn it," Lorelai curses, stomping her feet slightly on the linoleum floor as she heads over to aisle three. She rips a box off the display and tosses it into her basket. "Don't say a word, Taylor." She warns him as he works on putting more onto the display. He gives her a condemning look instead. Ignoring Taylor, she looks at the box for a moment, an expression of joy coming over her face. Rationalization has hit her. Two minutes later she strolls up to the register, basket completely packed to the gills with sugary sweets and fatty treats. Lois, the cashier, gives her a knowing smile.

"You're going to have a movie night with Rory, huh?" Lorelai smiles giddily.

"She doesn't know it yet but I'm sure after a long day at school and dinner at my parents' house, I'll be able to drag her into anything," Lorelai responds, placing items on the checkout counter. "Usually I don't have to convince her to partake, but this week she's been a little down so she hasn't been too into the social fun stuff."

"Yeah, heard about what happened. Dean's been storming around here all week," Lois informs Lorelai, not amused. Lorelai looks at her, puzzled.

"Dean actually told people what happened?"

"Oh, no. Miss Patty," Lois explains, swiping a package of sour patch kids across the price scanner.

"Oh, I was gonna say. Dean's not really the type to spread things around, even if it is...you know...that." Lorelai finishes awkwardly. Lois nods in agreement. "But if it's Miss Patty...I mean, I have no idea how she knows what happened but I know better than to question that by now."

"Tell me about it. I think she has super human powers," Lois chuckles. "That'll be 22.50."

"Small price to pay for getting high without the aid of illegal drugs," Lorelai quips, handing Lois twenty-five. As the cash register rings open, so does the bell above the front entrance. Dean rushes in, obviously in a hurry. Taylor stops stacking the cupcakes and approaches him quickly.

"Dean, you were supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago. Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry Taylor. I...got held up somewhere. It won't happen again."

"You've been moping around here all week, young man, and now you're late? Leave your personal problems outside the door, please. This is a place of business, not a soap opera." Taylor seems like he's finished but then he catches sight of Dean's cut lip. "Don't tell me you got into a fight."

"I didn't. I fell." Dean responds. Taylor eyes him suspiciously.

"If you're going to be late, please at least call. Tommy had to stay an extra hour because of you. You better apologize to him," Taylor points to the man who had just handed Lorelai her paper bag full of junk food before going back to his own work. Dean walks over and Tommy just hands over his apron to him so Dean won't have to waste time going to the back.

"Sorry, Tom," Dean mumbles and Tommy waves him off.

"Not a problem. I'm in no hurry to get home," he says and Dean nods thankfully for his understanding.

"With a wife like Janice, I wouldn't be in a hurry either," Lorelai whispers as an aside to Dean as Tommy walks away.

"I'll punch you in when I leave," Tommy calls back from the entrance to the stock room and Dean gives him a signal that he heard. Lorelai sets her bag down on the edge of the counter, looking at Dean, concerned.

"You okay, Dean?"

"I'm fine," Dean mutters, quickly beginning to bag up the groceries of the next customer as Lois rings them out.

"You don't seem fine."

"Why do you care?" Dean asks, obviously not in the mood to discuss anything with Lorelai. She is slightly affronted by his tone but tries not to let it get to her.

"I care about you, Dean. You were in Rory's life for quite awhile and right now you're both hurting so I care."

"Were. You're already used to using the past tense," Dean laughs bitterly, tossing lemons into the bag forcefully.

"Hey. Watch it with the lemons there, buddy. Don't want to prove me right after all this time."

"What?"

"Nothing," Lorelai waves it off. "Seriously, Dean, how are you doing?"

"How do you think I'm doing?"

"Not too good, I would say. Especially since I know you didn't get that lip falling down."

"Rory already told you about today?"

"No, I was just about to meet her at the bus stop. I could just tell you were lying. Why, what will she tell me?"

"I don't know what she'll tell you. Who knows what her interpretation of events will be. She's known to lie," Dean sets aside a full bag harshly and opens up another one with a loud snap.

"Watch it, Dean," Lorelai warns him, pointing a finger at him. "Now just tell me how you got the lip and I'll ignore the fact you're talking about my daughter like that." Dean pauses, huffing in teenage angst for a moment before he decides he better cooperate.

"I went to Chilton today after school."

"Dean..." Lorelai shakes her head, knowing immediately this is going to be a mess.

"I know. But all week I've been trying to...I don't know what. But I haven't cooled off, I've only gotten angrier and angrier, the more I thought about him...and her...and...I couldn't take it."

"So you went down there and started a fight with Tristan?"

"I didn't go there to fight, I just...I don't know what. I had to do something."

"I can't believe this," Lorelai runs her hands through her hair, worried about how much trouble this has caused. "Dean, what happened?"

"Nothing. I yelled, he yelled, Rory yelled, I pushed him, he punched me, Rory got in between us and I left. That was it."

"That was it?"

"Yeah, that was it. Why you wanted something else?"

"No, I just expected something far worse. Bloodshed or battle plans or, I dunno, at least a phone call from the headmaster's office. But maybe not."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"The only thing that disappoints me is how this all turned out," Lorelai replies honestly and Dean snorts. Lorelai's eyes widen, insulted by the implications of it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like you're really disappointed? You've been rooting for Tristan all along. You like him with Rory. And your parents certainly would rather Rory to be with him, with his family being so rich and prestigious. This is what you all wanted." Lorelai sets her bag down again, hurt.

"Look, Dean, if you want to take out your anger on me instead of Rory, fine. In fact, I'd rather me than her, cause I hate to see her so upset. But at least get things right. The top priority that I have in my life is for Rory to be happy and safe. And as long as those two requirements are filled, I don't care about much else. So as for your claim that I'd rather her be with Tristan, yeah, maybe I do, if he's the guy that makes her happy. She's happy with you, I'm rooting for you. It has everything to do with her. Not you." Lorelai picks up her bag yet again, taking a step away from the check out to let the customer behind her leave. The woman passes, giving them both a strange but interested look. People in the market are listening, but trying not to make it apparent that they are hanging on every word.

"But you're saying that I can't make Rory happy."

"You did once," Lorelai tells him sadly. "But things change." Dean stops bagging groceries, his anger abating and being replaced with complete sadness. "I didn't want to see you get hurt, Dean. I didn't. No matter what you may believe right now. And Rory never, ever, in a million years wanted to break your heart. These things just happen. No one can predict it."

"I bet you Tristan's been predicting this since the second he met her."

"Well then he should start his own psychic hotline. He can be the next Billy Dee Williams or Dionne Warwick." Dean cracks a small smile, for some reason picturing Tristan in Billy Dee's Lando get-up from Star Wars. Lorelai smiles as well, happy to see him grin. "Rory will always love you, Dean," she says quietly, touching him on the shoulder.

"That doesn't make me feel much better right now, Lorelai," Dean says, setting a package of Kleenex into a new paper bag.

"Someday it will. I'll see you, kid. Take care of the lip," Lorelai nods at him before walking toward the market. Taylor turns toward Dean to rag on him for what just happened but Lorelai points a finger at him and shoots him a look of death and he focuses back on placing a large price sign on top of his cupcake pyramid. Just then a little kid races down the aisle and hits one of the bottom boxes with his foot. The whole thing tumbles. Taylor looks at it in dismay, shaking his head at the sad state of youth today.

_To be continued…_

* * *

A/N: More Trory to�come. Reviews are love.


	13. Decision Dominoes

_Chapter Thirteen: Decision Dominoes_

"Hey, thanks for leaving me to enter the lion's den alone tonight," Lorelai remarks as she walks into the house, kicking off her high heels. "I left work early to meet you from the bus but there was no Rory! Just a blinking message from Emily on the machine when I came home." 

"I'm sorry for like the millionth time, Mom," Rory says, following Lorelai into the living room and sidestepping her purse as she drops it in her path. "It was just dealing with Grandma alone for the walk from the foyer to the sitting room. It wasn't a trek across Africa." 

"I would've preferred Africa. At least there would have been pretty wildlife, and perhaps vicious animals who can spot easy prey." 

"Mom." 

"She didn't get on your nerves tonight? She was in a prime mood." 

"She was fine, I don't know what you're talking about," Rory responds, heading for the safety of her room. 

"Hey, where you think you're goin'?" 

"To sleep." 

"No, come on. I have tons of junk food all set to be laid out here on the table," Lorelai gestures to the bags full of junk food in front of the couch. "And look. Look!" Lorelai cries, grabbing and holding up a stack of four movies. "It's Robert Redford and Paul Newman night. We've got Cool Hand Luke, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Sting, and Barefoot in the Park. Two together, two separate, for good measure." 

"You're a genius." 

"Well, ya know 'I've got vision and the rest of the world wears biofocals', baby. Come bask in my brilliance." 

"I'll pass." 

"Ror, come on. You love Barefoot in the Park."

"I'm not in the mood, Mom. Really. Maybe tomorrow." 

"How can you not be in the mood for Paul's baby blues?" Lorelai pouts, beginning to make puppy noises at Rory. "He's so yummy. And Redford? Come on. Brad Pitt of his day." 

"Need I remind you that they're now both senior citizens?" 

"They weren't back then." 

"Paul Newman is 77. Robert Redford's face looks like a bassett hound's." 

"But they were hot! That's all we need to know." 

"They're still going to be there tomorrow. They aren't going to leave the videos during the night." 

"How do you know? They could pull a Purple Rose of Cairo and walk right off the screen." 

"Well, then you can stare at a real life version of them instead of a little mini tv version. You should like that option better. Please let me go to bed." 

"Are you upset over what happened today at school with Dean?" Lorelai asks bluntly. Rory stops, shoulders dropping. 

"How did you find out about that already?" 

"Ran into Dean in the market and saw the fat lip. I pursued the evidence and was led straight to the crime, just like Columbo. I was planning on bringing it up mid-way through Butch when they to that god-awful-long montage of them in New York City but since you're not giving me the chance..." Lorelai shrugs, patting the seat next to her on the couch. "Want to talk about it?" 

"Not really." Lorelai frowns, hurt that Rory isn't sharing her feelings with her like always. "Tomorrow, Mom," Rory reassures her. "I just can't deal with it right now." 

"Okay," Lorelai agrees, deciding that Rory maybe does need some space for awhile. Spending the afternoon with her grandparents probably didn't give her any time to process things for herself. 

"Okay?" 

"Yeah. I won't pressure you if you really don't want to talk. Just know I'm here if you want me." 

"I know that. I love you," Rory walks over and gives Lorelai a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "I'll be in my room." 

"Kay." Rory goes to her room as Lorelai picks up the remote control, snapping on the tv. As Rory begins to close her door, she hears her mother exclaim happily: "Oh yay! Three Men and a Baby is on! This is the best!" Rory sticks her head out the door. 

"You hate that movie." 

"No, I hate Three Men and a Little Lady," She corrects. "This one, however, seriously packs some comedic punch. Steve Guttenberg is so misjudged as an actor, man." 

"Night, Mom," Rory laughs gently. 

"Night Rory," Lorelai calls as she hears her daughter's door close. The phone rings and Rory groans, flopping onto her bed. If it's for her, she's going to go crazy. After a few rings, Lorelai finally picks up. "Hello, this is the Steve Guttenberg Fan Club. You might as well hang up now if you've never seen Cocoon." There is a pause. "Hey there Lane. Perfect timing. Commercial break. What do you think of Beyonce Knowles hair in the recent Feria commercial? Yeah, channel twenty-three. Doesn't she look like a blonde clown? What were they thinking?" Listening to her mother jabber on endlesslly, Rory lifts herself up from her pillows and decides she must be a good friend and save Lane. She trods back to the living room, holding her hand out for the phone. Lorelai shakes her head at her. "Come on, Rory, Lane and I are having an intellectual conversation about how Feria commercials never ever make their spokesmodels hair look good. It's an interesting paradox of sorts, don't you think?" 

"Mom, you're boring Lane." 

"Lane, am I boring you?" Lorelai asks into the phone then shakes her head, sticking out her tongue. "She says I'm very interesting. In fact, she says that Jessica Alba should never ever be a redhead and - what was that?" Lorelai inquires, then relays to Rory. "And neither should Jennifer Lopez. That maroon color does nothing for her." 

"Lane says that or you do?" 

"Lane did this time, though I am inclined to agree." 

"If I agree can I have the phone?" 

"Perhaps." 

"Then I am in total concurrence with everything you have to say." 

"That's a dangerous thought," Lorelai jokes as she hands Rory the phone. 

"Hey, Lane. Sorry about that." 

"I don't mind," Lane laughs. "Your mom is so much fun." 

"Try living with her." 

"Don't even complain about mothers to me," Lane retorts and Rory nods to herself. 

"Yeah, you're right. Is she driving you crazy?" 

"I'm in the process of trying to convince her that yes, I do need to go to the mall for the 5th time in a month and a half and that I can handle going alone. I think that she suspects something." 

"That you're a shopoholic, perhaps." 

"She brought that up, actually. She thinks I'm focusing on the material aspects of my life and that a good girl would never do such at thing." 

"Tell her that I'm the materialistic horrible one and that you're just coming along to save my soul." 

"Excellent idea. That is, if you're still willing to come tomorrow. I was calling to check before I went through with the final begging process." 

"I can go," Rory replies, not sounding too enthused. "I haven't spent any quality time alone in a bookstore in awhile." 

"Oh god, right. You're not going to have anyone to hang with." 

"Don't worry about it. Maybe I can call Paris," Rory remarks, half-joking. "She gave me a ride to my grandparents' house today after I missed my bus." 

"You missed your bus?" 

"Dean came to Chilton and started a fight with Tristan, thereby causing me to miss my bus. I figured you would've heard it through the grapevine by now." 

"I've been locked in my room since five o'clock when I asked my mom if I could go to the mall tomorrow." 

"Ah, that explains that." 

"So Dean really came to Chilton and fought Tristan?" 

"Tried to, anyway. Then Paris gave me a ride and threatened to hate me more than she already does if I hurt Tristan." 

"Is that possible?" 

"I don't really want to find out." 

"So what are you going to do?" 

"I have no idea. That's kind of becoming my mantra. I'm beginning to think I don't know anything anymore." 

"That would imply you knew something to begin with." 

"Hey." 

"Well, you know, from all your previous experience cheating on your myriads of boyfriends..." Lane points out and Rory sighs. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. And could we not call it cheating? That just sounds so..."

"Trampy?" 

"And you want me to come with you tomorrow?" 

"Sorry," Lane says shamefully. "I'll think of a better word and tell you tomorrow." 

"What time do you want to go?" 

"Two?" 

"I'll come and pick you up." 

"See you then. And Rory?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Don't beat yourself up about this. It could happen to anyone. No one is perfect." 

"Mary Poppins is perfect." 

"No, she's a lady with a neverending bag and a talking umbrella handle. She was loopy. There's a difference." 

"Night, Lane," Rory laughs, clicking the off button. Lorelai looks at her in disgust. 

"You just talked right over the best part of the movie, wherein Ted Danson dresses like a pregnant woman to go help bust the drug guys. I always loved the whole drug scam underplot in this movie. It's so bad it's good." Lorelai throws a piece of licorice at her daughter. "What'd Lane want?" 

"We have to go to the mall tomorrow." 

"Henry?" 

"Of course." 

"My, you're a good friend." 

"I suppose," Rory sits down on the couch next to Lorelai, chewing absentmindedly on the licorice stick. "If only she would tell her mom about him. I mean, he's her parents' ideal. I don't get it." 

"Well the instant they like him, she'll hate him. I'm fully aware of the vicious circle of having parents you can't stand." 

"What if..." Rory stops gnawing on the candy, an idea occurring to her. "What if we told Mrs. Kim that we had found the perfect blind date for Lane..." Lorelai rips a stick in half, watching Rory as the wheels turn inside of her head. 

"And then what?" 

"What if we build Henry up as like, the perfect Korean guy, the ideal man for Lane, right...and then somehow we make Mrs. Kim see that all she has to do to get Lane to date him is act like she doesn't like him..."

"You expect to make Mrs. Kim understand a plan like that?" Lorelai scoffs. "You need to start sleeping at night again, hon." 

"Don't you see?" Rory says, standing up. She is excited. "If Mrs. Kim says she doesn't like him, for like, a personality reason or something, but then reluctantly agrees to let Lane see him...it's perfect. Lane will have the permission to date him while still maintaining the disapproval of her mother. You think Mrs. Kim would go for that? I mean, Henry is everything she wants for Lane." 

"So? You think Mrs. Kim is going to manipulate her own daughter to get what she wants? Mrs. Kim?" Lorelai repeats, then stops. "Right, Mrs. Kim! She totally would do this!" 

"With a little convincing..." Rory sits back down, taking Lorelai's hand. "Lane's life would be so much easier..." Lorelai sets down the bag of Twizzlers and takes her hand away from Rory, knowing that pleading look. 

"I am _not_ going to talk to Mrs. Kim about this." 

"Who else can?" 

"You?" 

"Me? After she finds out about the whole Dean thing, you think she's going to listen to a word I have to say? That is, if she doesn't already know." 

"So she'd rather take guidance on her daughter's romantic life from someone who got pregnant at sixteen and then ran away from home?" 

"We're both harlots, Mom," Rory says, dismayed. "What are we going to do?" 

"We could _both_ go," Lorelai smiles wickedly. "It'll be a double whammy. Maybe if we confuse her enough, she will forget what a corruptive force we probably are on her daughter's life." 

"It could work." 

"Though it would probably be easier if I go tomorrow when you two are at the mall," Lorelai reconsiders and Rory looks at her questioningly. "Cause if Lane finds out what we're doing the whole thing will be pointless." 

"It's important that she's clueless," Rory agrees. 

"We have to be 007 about it." 

"I hate going behind her back," Rory squelches but Lorelai jumps in reassuringly, now thoroughly convinced that their plan will be airtight in its effectiveness. 

"It's for her own good." 

"If she ever finds out about it, she'll thank you. And besides, she'll want Mrs. Kim to like him eventually. We all want that at some point, whether we want to admit it to ourselves or not. And then the farce can be dropped." 

"Good point." Rory states, standing up. "We should start planning exactly what you're going to say to Mrs. Kim." She goes to the kitchen to get a pad of paper and a pen. 

"What happened to going to bed?" 

"I'm awake now. This is gonna be great," Rory tells her mother. Lorelai nods, pondering something thoughtfully as Rory excitedly begins scribbling down notes. 

"You know, Rory, fixing Lane's lovelife isn't going to help you forget what's going on with yours," Lorelai observes and Rory hesitates in writing for a moment. 

"That's not why I'm doing this," Rory replies, not looking up. She continues writing, concentrating ferociously. 

"Okay," Lorelai lets it go, knowing eventually Rory will realize it on her own. "So how should I start?"

* * *

Lorelai and Mrs. Kim wave good-bye to their children as the Gilmore Jeep disappears around the corner, Lorelai grinning at them and Mrs. Kim appearing as if she fears for Lane's life. Lorelai turns to Mrs. Kim expectantly. 

"So, Mrs. Kim...while I have you here...there's kind of something I wanted to, uh, discuss with you," Lorelai begins. Mrs. Kim just glares at her, moving her broom across the sidewalk slightly. "That is, if you have time." 

"What do you want to talk about? I am a very busy woman." 

"It's about Lane, actually." 

"What about Lane? What did she do? I heard about your daughter. She's a bad influence on Lane. I always knew she was bad influence." 

"It's nothing bad, Mrs. Kim," Lorelai reassures her, ignoring the comment about Rory and keeping her focus on the mission at hand. "It's actually quite good. Very good, in fact." 

"Good? Why good?" She looks at her accusatorily and Lorelai almost jumps back. 

"Could we go inside and sit and talk, maybe?" 

"No. Tell me now." Mrs. Kim stops sweeping, putting her hands on her hips. 

"Why don't we go make some tea, sit down...have a little chat. I think you'll like what I have to say," Lorelai states, kind of nudging Mrs. Kim on, hoping she'll feel like changing her mind. 

"Fine. We go inside." 

"All right! Now we're getting somewhere," Lorelai grins, rubbing her hands together as she follows Lane's mother inside the house. 

"You think you're cute. You're not. That's the problem with you and your daughter. You don't know when to be serious." 

"Well, I have a very serious matter to talk to you about today, so maybe I can change your mind," Lorelai responds as she maneuvers her way through the maze of piled antiques, careful not to touch or god forbid break anything. That wouldn't help matters at all. 

"Serious? You said it was good," Mrs. Kim pulls out a chair from the kitchen table, moving a couple things away. "Sit." Lorelai complies. 

"Good and serious can go together. Especially when healthy, intelligent, devoutly religious Korean men are concerned," she lays down the bait and Mrs. Kim bites immediately. She sits down across from Lorelai, who now has her full and rapt attention. 

"What did you say?" 

"I came here today with an offer for you. For Lane, really. I happen to have met one of Rory's classmates at Chilton - which, need I remind you, is one of the best prep schools in the nation - and I was just amazed by what a wonderful kid he was. Now, I would have loved if Rory had been interested, but seeing as how I don't have as much control over Rory as you have over Lane, I couldn't make her see that a potential doctor was a mighty good catch," Lorelai sighs overdramatically. 

"A doctor?" 

"Pediatrician, in fact. He's planning on going to Yale." 

"Yale?" 

"Yes, indeed. Now, he's very involved in his church and is very close to his parents. Top grades at school, and he speaks fluent Korean. It turns out he even visited there last summer to see his relatives." 

"This boy goes to Rory's school?" 

"Yep," Lorelai nods. "He lives in Hartford...in a big ol' mansion..."

"What is his name?" 

"Henry Cho." 

"Cho. That is a good name. A very good name." 

"I thought so too," Lorelai grins, leaning forward. "Now, don't you think he just sounds fabulous for Lane? I thought...you know, I could easily set her up on a blind date with him...if you're interested." 

"That sounds like an excellent idea. Lane will be enthused. I will tell her tonight when-"

"About that," Lorelai interrupts, getting daring. "See...the thing is...Lane is a teenager." 

"I know this." 

"Teenagers...they don't want to be set up with boys that their parents approve of. They want someone their parents hate. Even good girls like Lane. Now...the way I see it...you can either have her find a bad boy and date him to defy you, or..."

"Yes?" 

"You can find an excellent, wonderful young man and trick Lane into thinking you don't approve." Lorelai says, then continues before Mrs. Kim can say anything. "Because face it, you set Lane up with Henry and she's gonna hate him before she even meets him. Just on principle. You let her meet him, you meet him...tell her that you don't like the way he looks at her. Poof. You've got an iron-clad perfect candidate for her to want to date. It's a win-win situation you see." 

"I do not like lying." 

"It's not lying," Lorelai says. "It's...pretending a little so you can do what's best for your daughter." Lorelai tries to see if Mrs. Kim is buying it and it doesn't seem like it. "Take Rory for example. I said I liked Dean. Welcomed him into our home. And you know what happened with that." Mrs. Kim makes a face. "Now do you want that?" 

"Of course not." 

"Then you should do this." 

"I will." 

"Excellent! I'll set up the date and let you know when it's gonna go down. Polish your acting skills, missy!" She exclaims in excitement, clapping twice. Mrs. Kim scowls and Lorelai almost cowers. "I mean, ma'am." 

"I think you had better leave now. Please send over this boy's home address and phone number, I would like to speak to his parents." 

"Sure thing," Lorelai responds, trying to conceal her utter joy over her relatively simple success. She walks out of the antique store equally carefully, waiting until she reaches the safety of the front walk to do a little dance. Twirling out onto the sidewalk, she nearly knocks over Kirk. 

"Hey, Dancing Queen, watch your step," Kirk tells her, and she only grins wider in response. 

"It's a wonderful day, Kirk, give me a smile!" 

"No thanks. I have to go to the beauty parlor, I'm late." 

"You getting your hair done?" Lorelai smirks. 

"No, manicure," Kirk holds up his hands, perfectly serious. Lorelai waits until his back is turned before she bursts out laughing. He turns back, hurt. "I can't help it that I have sensitive hands!" He stalks off, leaving Lorelai in a giggling fit.

* * *

Lorelai's head snaps up as the front door slams loudly and she drops her stitching. 

"Rory?" She asks as a whirl of brown hair and jeans flies by, slamming another door as she goes into her bedroom. "Rory!" Setting down the pillow case she was embroidering with the face of Red from Fraggle Rock, she goes to Rory's door and knocks. It flies open and Rory comes stalking out, obviously very upset. "What happened?" 

"Nothing happened. Henry and Lane had a good time. A great time." Rory snips, moving past Lorelai and going to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing the milk. She sets it on the table harshly then looks around the room, agitated. She opens up a cupboard - the wrong cupboard - and then crosses the kitchen to open another cup-less cupboard. "God, where do we keep the glasses around here?" 

"Right here, where they've always been..." Lorelai eyes her wearily, edging past her and opening the right door, handing Rory a glass. 

"They have not always been there." 

"Okay," Lorelai agrees, backing away. 

"They used to be over there the first few years we lived here, they were not always there." 

"That's true..." 

"So don't say that they've always been there cause they haven't always been there!" Rory exclaims. Lorelai holds her hands up in defense. 

"Hey, Cup Nazi...why don't you sit down and tell me what happened." 

"There's nothing to tell. Henry and Lane were happy. So happy. Everybody's happy." Rory explains angrily. She pours a glass of milk, accidentally spilling a little on the table. "Oh come on! What is _wrong_ with me?" she cries out, giving up and just sitting down, the sleeve of her shirt beginning to soak up the milk. Lorelai moves it for her, grabbing a towel and wiping it up. "I can't even pour a stupid glass of milk without screwing it up. I don't deserve to live, you know that?" 

"Uh, you're freaking me out here." 

"I'm sorry, I just..." She lets out a cry of frustration. "It was like Valentine's Day in October at the mall and there were like these stupid happy couples everywhere and Henry and Lane were like, ugggghhh. I don't know how I'm going to handle it once they're actually allowed to see each other whenever they want." 

"I guess this wouldn't be a good time to tell you Mrs. Kim agreed, then, would it?" 

"Probably not," Rory glares. 

"Thought not." 

"But that's perfect. Great. I mean, I should be happy for her, right? It's a good thing." 

"Yes it is. And it's something you wanted for her." 

"I know I did. I mean, it was my idea, right? It's stupid for me to sit here and complain that she's happy." 

"But when you're completely down in the dumps, it probably doesn't make you feel any better to see everything falling into place for Lane," Lorelai points out. 

"I'm a horrible friend," Rory says and Lorelai shakes her head adamantly. 

"You're only human." 

"You told me it wasn't going to make me feel any better. But did I listen? Of course not." 

"Ah, so what. You'll be glad you did it later," Lorelai tells her. Rory slumps back into her chair, frowning deeply. She thinks to herself for a moment, her frown growing even more severe. 

"I couldn't go anywhere in that entire stupid mall. I couldn't go to the bookstore cause that was where I ran into him reading Leaves of Grass. What was he even doing reading that anyway? He shouldn't like books like that. That's where the trouble started, you know. I should have just walked away, but no. I'm stupid." Rory pauses, getting up and shoving the gallon of milk back into the fridge. She sits back down and looks across the table at Lorelai, frustrated. "I couldn't go to the arcade, I couldn't go to the movies, I couldn't get coffee at Barnie's, I couldn't go cd shopping, I couldn't even go to Johnny Rocket's with Lane because that was what we did the very first time I hung out with him at the mall." 

"By him you mean Tristan, I gather," Lorelai clarifies, trying to just buy some time because it felt like she was expected to say something and she had no idea how to respond. 

"Yes. Everything just made me feel worse. By the third hour there I was about to do something drastic." 

"Like go shopping at Lane Bryant?" Lorelai quips, trying to lighten her daughter's mood. 

"It'd be one place that wouldn't remind me of Tristan - too bad I didn't think of that." 

"You would've come out looking like your grandmother." 

"Like Grandma shops for her clothes at the mall," Rory replies and Lorelai shrugs, acknowledging that she's probably right. The phone rings and Lorelai ignores it. "Don't let the machine get it," Rory says, knowing what her mom is doing. 

"That's what it's for, dear." 

"No, it's there so we can screen our calls and not talk to evil people." 

"Well, I'm screening then. I don't want to talk to anyone annoying." 

"Mom." 

"It's true. Now just ignore it. What were you saying?" 

"That we should answer the phone." Lorelai makes no movement and Rory reaches over to the counter and grabs it a split second before the machine would've picked up. Lorelai makes a face at her. "Talk." Rory spits into the phone. "Luke. Hi." Pause. "Everything's fine." Pause. "I do not sound weird. Do you want to talk to Mom? Good." Rory hands off the phone to Lorelai. "Luke." 

"I gathered that, thank you." She takes the phone. "Hey, Luke." Rory heads for her room but Lorelai spots her before she gets two steps. "Hey, stop right there missy. We haven't finished here." 

"But you're on the phone." 

"Are you still upset?" Rory opens her mouth to protest but Lorelai shushes her. "I know you are, don't even try to say anything different. As long as you're upset we're not done." She turns her attention back to the phone. "No, I'm still here. Can I call you back in a second?" Lorelai clicks off the phone so Rory assumes Luke must've said okay. "Rory, you can't keep doing this." 

"What?" 

"You have been riding this emotional rollercoaster all week, hiding in your room and running around school, and god, being fought over by two guys you love-"

"Are you making fun of my problem?" Rory interrupts, Paris' comments refreshed in her mind. Lorelai has no idea where that came from at all. 

"Making fun of you? Rory, no. You have two boys, each of whom have come to matter very, very much to you and now you have to suddenly cast one of them aside? Break the heart of someone you love? Rory, hon, I'm not making fun of you. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for a second." 

Rory's shoulders slump and she runs her hands through her long hair, closing her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Mom, I...I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Every little thing that happens is just...I feel like I can't handle anything this week." 

"That's fine, Ror." 

"It's not fine. I should be able to handle anything. I can't be falling to pieces just because of some stupid boy," Rory sighs. 

"You're hardly falling to pieces." 

"I'm a jigsaw puzzle." 

"You are not. You might be one of those little baby toys where they have four cut-out shapes and they have to match them up or something, you're not a Charles Wisocki or anything." 

"Maybe," Rory shrugs, touching her wet sleeve. "I'm going to go change my sweater." 

"Okay. Want me to make coffee, since, ya know, that milk thing didn't quite work out?" 

"Sure." She goes to her bedroom and re-emerges awhile later, wearing pajama pants and a baggy dark blue hoodie. Lorelai is getting out mugs and setting them up in front of the coffee pot. "You know what?" Rory says as she watches her mother move around the kitchen. 

"That Hugh Jackman used to be the Australian equivalent of a Broadway star? Yes, I did." 

"What?" 

"It's true." 

"I did not know that." 

"He played Curly in Oklahoma!."

"I didn't know that either. But...I was actually thinking that you should call Luke back and go out tonight." 

"I want to stay here with you." 

"You've been worrying about me constantly. It's not fair. You should call him back and go out." 

"Are you re-directing again? 'Cause focusing on me and Luke is gonna be kind of pointless because we have nothing to fix." 

"It's not that. I just...I'm gonna curl up on the couch and watch re-runs of The Cosby Show or Family Ties all night and feel sorry for myself, and really, I don't want any witnesses to the downward spiral." 

"I can keep my eyes closed." 

"You've been neglecting Luke all week." 

"I have not." 

"It's my fault, I know, but you have." 

"He understands." 

"Yes, he probably does. All the more reason for you to go on over there and thank him for being so wonderful." 

"I have a feeling you're trying to get rid of me," Lorelai says suspiciously. 

"I'm not," Rory assures her. "I just feel guilty for dragging you down with me." 

"That's what mothers are for." 

"Mother!" 

"Will it really make you feel better if I go?" Rory nods earnestly. "Okay, then I'll go. Just because I love you." 

"Thank you," Rory responds and Lorelai shakes her head in dismay. 

"If I come home to find you doing anything except lying on that couch watching Alex Keaton praise Republicans, you're going to have some 'splainin' to do." 

"Luke's waiting, Mom." 

"Yeah, for me to call him back. Not to show up at his place," Lorelai points out and Rory replies by turning and going into the living room. 

"Go have fun," she demands, sitting down and turning on the television to Nick at Nite. 

"I won't be gone too long," Lorelai says, picking up her purse and jacket. She opens the front door then moves back to look at Rory through the archway. Rory curls up and pulls a blanket over her as the opening credits of Cheers begin to play. "Don't you want to go, where everybody knows your name? And they're always glad you came-"

"Luke's!" Rory cries out. 

"K, I'm going!" Lorelai exclaims and heads out the door. Rory smiles gently to herself. Snuggling deeper into the couch as if trying to melt into it. Breathing in deeply, she closes her eyes and merely listens to Ted Danson and Shelley Long bicker.

* * *

Stepping out of her car and walking up the carefully tended path to the front door of the DuGrey mansion, Paris tugs off her jacket pre-emptively, the night being unusually warm for October. Ringing the doorbell, she can hear it echo inside. Moments later, the door is opened by Antoine, the DuGrey's long-time maid. She smiles extremely stiffly at Paris, her face not entirely co-operating with the emotion she is trying desperately to fake. 

"Hello, Miss Gellar. It's been quite awhile since I've opened up the door to find you here." 

"I know, Antoine. Is Tristan home?" 

"I've been instructed to tell all visitors that Mr. DuGrey is not available," she replies. Paris eyes her, knowing from past experience what that meant. She nods at Antoine and backs off of the front stoop. 

"Thank you very much, Antoine. It was good to see you again." 

"It was nice to see you as well. Good night." She shuts the heavy front door. Paris retreats back down the front walk, but instead of returning to her BMW, she walks around the large house to the expansive back yard, crossing it casually and approaching the pool house with equal candor. Turning the handle to the back door of the rec room, she finds it locked. Not even having to think, she stands on tip-toe and finds the small groove etched into the paneling around the door, lifting out a small key. Unlocking the door, Paris goes inside. 

The faint sound of Sloan's "The Other Man" echoes within the cavernous room. Paris smirks to herself, shaking her head. Tristan is laying on the couch, partially hidden by the billiard table. His eyes are closed but Paris knows full well he's not sleeping. 

"Feeling slightly sorry for ourselves, are we?" She asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking an eyebrow at her. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks, not opening his eyes. 

"Saving you from an evening of sitting alone in the dark listening to music like this. I'm sure in half an hour you'll be on to the real hard core stuff, you know, instant musical depression. I'm here to see that you don't end up pulling a Girl, Interuppted." 

"Girl?" 

"Well I'd say One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest but I know I'd be walking right into a Nurse Ratchett comment so I decided to go another route." 

"Wise decision, cause that was the first thing that popped into my head," Tristan responds, finally opening his eyes and looking at her. "How'd you get in here?" 

"You haven't moved the key in ten years," Paris shrugs. "I have an exceptional memory." Tristan nods, not really caring all that much. 

"Antoine gave me away, huh." 

"She didn't tell me where you were." 

"She just said she was instructed to tell you I wasn't home, right?" 

"Exactly." 

"I hate that." Tristan mutters. "So why'd you come here?" 

"This is where you always go." 

"How do you know?" 

"I told you I have a good memory. I'm beginning to think you don't listen to me," Paris remarks, gesturing for him to sit up. He doesn't move. 

"Are you here to rag on me about the Rory thing?" 

"Why would I rag on you?" Paris asks, casting her gaze down as she leans against the pool table. 

"I can think of a million reasons off the top of my head, the first being that you hate Rory and the second being that I expect you don't condone me going after her." 

"I don't hate Rory." 

"Could've fooled me." 

"I came here to help, are you going to be a jerk?" Paris says, hurt. She takes a step to leave but Tristan sits up. 

"Wait." She pauses. "I'm sorry, Paris, I just...I didn't think, considering the circumstances, that you would be the one showing up and offering anything." 

"Well, we used to be friends, remember?" Paris states. "I just figured that maybe now would be a good time to remind you of that." 

"I've never forgotten," Tristan responds honestly. "But things change." 

"_You_ changed," Paris retorts simply, sitting down next to him. Tristan opens his mouth to protest but stops, the thought occuring to him that she's right. "When you're with Rory, you're like you used to be." 

"What?" 

"Before everything. The past few months...I mean, I know you and Rory think that you're in your whole own little world most of the time but everyone else can see you," Paris half-jokes, then gets serious. "I mean, I've watched you with her. You're...you." 

"Astute, Paris, especially coming from you," Tristan replies and Paris glares at him. 

"You know what I mean. You act like you used to before being popular and following societal dictums became more important to you than being true to yourself," Paris says and Tristan starts to make another sarcastic remark about the Hallmark cliché world she's about to enter into but Paris continues, knowing full well what he's going to say. "It's true no matter how stupid it sounds. And you don't know how much I wanted to be that person, Tristan..." she stops now, not having the courage to say what she wants to for the first time in her life. 

"What person?" It's silent for a few minutes before Tristan repeats his question. "What person?" 

"The person who could make you do that. To make you act like you used to, you know, to be the person who would hide out in the pool house when he was upset?" She tries to joke, feeling uncomfortable with what she has just said. Her forced smile falls quickly. "But it wasn't me. It was Rory. And I did hate her for it." Paris wavers. "I don't anymore." 

"Why not?" 

"Because she finally realized what I knew all along, I guess," Paris shrugs, looking away. "You adored her and she didn't even see how great a thing that was. She took it for granted...cast it aside." Tristan snorts. 

"She might do that again, so don't get ahead of yourself," he tells her, leaning back against the couch with a deep frown. Paris shakes her head slowly. 

"Except she won't." 

"All evidence points to the contrary." 

"That's just what you think." 

"And what do you think, Paris?" Tristan inquires, annoyed. "I guarantee you that you're completely wrong." 

"I'm almost never wrong." 

"Almost never isn't always." 

"It's as close as you can get. Almost always right is pretty good." 

"Yeah, well, almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." 

"Pulling out the old anecdotes already? You used to be good at arguing." 

"I'm sick of arguing. I'm sick of having to debate everything. Things just are what they are." 

"Unless what you think they are, and what they really are, are entirely different things," Paris counters and Tristan lets out a small groan. 

"Can you stop?" 

"I could, but I won't." 

"Why not?" Tristan climbs up off the couch, walking across the room before turning back and looking at her. 

"Because I happen to think that Rory Gilmore is absolutely crazy about you." 

"Maybe you're a little biased to be giving that opinion." 

"I'm perfectly capable of setting aside my own opinions and looking at matters objectively, Ego-boy," Paris retorts. "And you know that so don't even bother to tell me otherwise." 

"Do you want to play some pool?" 

"And don't try and divert my attention from the subject." 

"Well I don't want to talk about it. The last thing I need is you coming in here and getting my hopes up only to fall flat on my face again. I'm not willingly walking into that again." 

"Then I'll drag you, kicking and screaming all the way," Paris states simply, accepting the cue stick from Tristan as he hands it to her. He rolls his eyes at her as he set up the balls, trying to focus all his attention on the arrangement of solids and stripes so Paris' words don't sink in. "Dean is history, Tristan. There's no way Rory is going to get back together with him." 

"You want to break?" Tristan asks, gesturing to the table. Paris hesitates and Tristan doesn't wait. "Fine, I will." He sends the cue ball shooting across the table forcefully, skillfully sinking two solids. He smirks at her as he circles the table. "You're stripes." 

"I hate stripes." 

"I know that." 

"I'll still win," Paris responds with a smirk of her own. "I bet Rory is thinking very dirty things about you right now," she tells him as he takes his next shot, causing the cue to slip out of his controlled grasp and the intended ball goes ricocheting the opposite direction. Tristan glares at her. 

"That wasn't fair." 

"No, probably not," Paris shrugs, lining up her own shot with a small smile. "But probably true." There is a quick cracking noise as the cue connects and number 2 ball sinks in the right top corner pocket swiftly. 

"Nice shot," Tristan compliments Paris, who merely shrugs again. 

"Pool is merely a game of precision, prediction, concentration and simple mathematics," Paris explains as she off-handedly sinks another ball. "You don't stand a chance."

* * *

Rory sits up stiffly from her long-held position on the couch, stretching slowly. The closing credits of the third straight episode of Family Ties were rolling and if asked, she wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what had happened on any of the three. 

Glancing at the clock, which now reads 2 am, Rory stands up and plods toward the kitchen. Her mother was sleeping soundly upstairs, having returned from Luke's in a blissful, relaxed state of happiness. If only Rory could enjoy the same feeling. She opens the refrigerator aimlessly, and then the freezer. Not really hungry, but bored, she takes out an ice cream sandwich and unwraps it slowly. Rory then goes to her bedroom, determined that she get some reading done. She hadn't picked up a non-school book all day. It felt unnatural and unsettling. 

After five chapters, she realizes that it's not the lack of extracurricular reading that's unsettling. Tossing her book aside, she angrily punches at her pillow, not able to get comfortable. After a few minutes of rolling and tossing and adjusting Rory gives up. She throws off her covers and gets out of bed, grabbing her portable CD player and a couple CDs. 

It only became an endless parade, every CD not doing it's desired job. Even Sarah Harmer didn't do the trick. She couldn't relax, couldn't stop thinking about _him_. Ready to scream, Rory climbs out of bed again, but this time she has an entirely different mission. Grabbing a pair of sneakers from her floor and the car keys from the kitchen counter, she sneaks out the back door. 

Half an hour later, she pulls up at the DuGrey mansion, not entirely sure what she plans on doing, especially since it's 3:30am and the house is cloaked in pitch black darkness. She parks behind the black BMW in the driveway and climbs out, trembling in the night cold and in nervous anticipation. Taking a few steps toward the front door, she hears someone else's footsteps behind her and she freezes, her heart jumping into her throat. She was in trouble. 

"He's in the pool house." Paris' voice is crisp and clear, somehow not at all surprised to come across Rory standing there. Rory whirls around, embarrassed. 

"Paris! What are you doing here?" 

"It's almost 4am, I could ask you the same question," Paris responds calmly, folding her hands in front of her. 

"Um...I just...I had to talk to Tristan about something," Rory says, her voice cracking. Paris raises an eyebrow, implying that she wants further explanation. Rory scowls slightly, already agitated. "Well what are you doing here? I mean, I doubt you're usually here at -" Rory grabs Paris' arm and looks at her wristwatch - "3:41 am either." 

"I had to talk to Tristan about something too," Paris replies. "Like I said, he's in the pool house. You can get in the back door, it should be open." 

"Oh. Okay..." Rory says, backing away from Paris. 

"If it's not open, the key is hidden above the door. Just reach up there and you'll feel it," Paris instructs her as she unlocks her car door. She pauses after she opens the door and waits for Rory to respond. 

"All right." Rory slowly starts to turn and walk away. 

"And Rory?" 

"Yes?" She doubles back, not having gotten very far anyway. Paris starts to say something but clearly has second thoughts. 

"Nevermind," Paris climbs into her car and starts the engine. Rory watches as Paris' expensive car backs out of the driveway, feeling even more unsettled after this strange and random encounter. She then looks up at the huge house, wondering where the pool house even was. Figuring it was most likely in the back, she makes the long walk to the yard, keeping her fingers crossed that the DuGreys didn't have a weird alarm system or guard dogs. Visions of being trapped in a spotlight and cornered by vicious German Sheperds fill her mind and she picks up her pace. Her worries of finding the pool house vanish when she realizes the indoor pool is completely surrounded by glass windows and doors on two sides, making its location quite obvious. Walking past the pool to the closed off portion of the building, she finds the only door that Paris could have been referring to. 

Rory stops, staring at the door. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. What was she even doing there? At 4 in the morning? Was she crazy? Letting out a frustrated little groan, she steps back, reconsidering. With every passing moment, she felt more and more stupid. Her gaze sweeps the carefully maintained yard, the gardens vaguely visible in the darkness. It was cold and lonesome, entirely frightening in its own right. 

Taking a deep breath, she sets her hand on the doorknob and closes her eyes as if trying to muster the courage. Twisting it, she finds it unlocked. She hesitates before pushing it open, the possibility of leaving before Tristan sees her still seeming like a good idea. 

"Just go in," Rory whispers to herself. She pushes the door all the way open and her gaze sweeps the room anxiously, quickly trying to take in all that she can. Tristan is nowhere to be seen. Rory's heart drops to her feet, wondering if all of the courage she had just struggled to muster was all for naught. Cautiously, she takes a few steps into the large room. Hearing a noise from down the hallway, Rory jumps, slightly startled, before deciding to follow the sound. 

Walking down the hallway, she finds herself at the back entrance to the pool. The only light in the vast room came from the lights along the pool walls, shining out from beneath the water. The aquamarine glow casts flickering shimmers of light onto the wall and the glass walls. The smell of chlorine hangs in the warm air. Tristan is sitting on one of the deck chairs, lost in thought. Rory watches him for a moment, taking advantage of the fact that he is unaware of her presence. She can feel her pulse quicken as she observes him, every angle of his face and body somehow seeming all the more appealing tonight. She could have easily stayed there for hours, just watching him. The idea seemed tempting, for she had no idea what she was going to say to him. 

Somehow sensing her, Tristan turns his head as she begins to walk toward him. He felt a surge of happiness seeing her standing there, a swell of emotion immediately coming to the surface. Tristan stands up, not quite sure if he's dreaming. 

"Rory?" His voice betrays him, cracking. "What are you doing here?" 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come," Rory wavers, losing her nerve. She turns to go. 

"Rory, don't go," Tristan says quickly. She stops. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing's the matter," Rory replies, shaking her head. "I just..."

"Just...what?" Tristan asks softly, staring at her from across the room. Rory walks closer, bridging the gap slightly. 

"I had to see you." 

"Why?" 

"Because, I..." she starts, a frustrated look crossing her face as she struggles to explain herself. "Because I can't even listen to PJ Harvey because of you. I'm laying in bed, in the dark, and I can't sleep...and when I can't sleep I listen to her except now I can't because I listen to her and I think of you and then I'm worse off than I was when I started." 

"I'm sorry," Tristan mutters, looking away. 

"You should be," Rory shoots back. "You're making me go crazy. Like this? _This?_ Coming here at 4 in the morning? That's crazy. It's all your doing. I would never have done something like this before. But here I am. I'm here...and you're there...and I'm crazy. Crazy and confused and upset and...god, I don't know what. All I know is that you're standing there and you're looking like that and all I want to do is kiss you and that's not right." 

"Why is that not right? Because of Dean?" 

"No!" Rory spits out. "Dean and I are over. It's wrong because this isn't me. I don't sneak out of my house and drive to Hartford in the middle of the night to go see a boy. I don't think about making out instead of War and Peace. That isn't who I am, that's not what I do." 

"I don't see why it has to be that way," Tristan moves toward her, the space between them shortening to a mere few feet. Rory looks up at him, momentarily losing her train of thought as her gaze trains on his smoldering blue eyes. A shudder runs through her body, an urge running through her that she wasn't entirely comfortable with. Growing even more frustrated, she groans slightly, closing her eyes and stepping away from him. 

"Well...I do...so..." 

"So?" 

"So..."

"So why are you here, then?" The question hangs in the air for a moment, the words turning over within Rory's mind. She didn't have an answer. All she had was her instinct and all her instinct was telling her to do was to act. So she does. Moving forward she pulls Tristan to her, her lips meeting his with extreme passionate fervor. Rory's entire body instantly feels different, shifting from nervous, anxious tension to deep arousal within seconds. Her worries melt away into a puddle of lust; the small voice inside of her head that was questioning and debating and telling her to go home dissipating entirely. 

Their mouths move against one another's, his tongue slipping into her mouth and seeking hers. His hands cup her delicate cheeks, now flushed, as their kiss continued, neither wanting to stop. Rory finally tears away from him, desperate for air. They both pause, gasping slightly. Rory's hands travel over his arms and chest as she tries to regain stability, the room swimming around her. She felt hot and dizzy, acutely aware of every thing that Tristan is doing, but completely oblivious to everything else. A marching band could have gone past the windows playing 76 Trombones and Rory wouldn't have noticed anything except Tristan's quivering, full lips. 

Tristan begins kissing her neck, surely hard enough to leave a telling mark. Rory had always warned Dean against doing such a thing, but now she didn't care. In fact, the idea that he wanted to kiss her so badly almost made her inclined to do the same to him. Her fingertips graze the heated skin of his muscled stomach and Rory finds herself tugging up on the hem of his loose t-shirt. She pulls away from him and his eyes move up to hers, wondering if she wants to stop. She tugs up again, this time getting the courage to lift it halfway up his chest. Tristan helps her pull it off over his head and they both toss it aside. Tristan moves to kiss her again but Rory has other ideas, pulling her own shirt off in a swift determined motion, completing the task before she has a chance to second-guess herself or be embarrassed. 

Tristan tries not to show his shock but fails, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Rory Gilmore in a state of half-undress. Not knowing what else to do, he does what comes naturally and pulls him to her. They hungrily kiss, eagerly exploring the vast expanses of bare skin they had just revealed to one another. 

"I need to sit down," Tristan murmurs to her as her hands move over his chest. He leads her over to a nearby lounge chair, pulling her into his lap. It's her turn to be surprised, not having been fully aware of the effect she was having on him before. Smiling gently to show him she's not freaked out, Rory returns to kissing him. His hands move to her shoulders, slipping the straps of her bra off of one and then the other as his lips travel away from hers. Their chests brush against one anothers and Rory lets out a small moan. Tristan pulls away, for the first time fully aware of how far things have gone so fast. "Rory, what are we doing?" He asks, willing up the power to not be entranced by the tantalizing sight of her big, blue eyes and pale pink lips. 

"We're talking about War and Peace," Rory murmurs. 

"Okay," Tristan replies, pausing before continuing, his lips brushing against hers. "But just for a little while. It's a long book." 

"But a good one," Rory says and Tristan nods, half in a daze. "I might not be able to put it down." Their lips meld together again as Tristan pulls Rory back with him as he lays down. 

"God...me neither..." he whispers huskily against her mouth before kissing her again, still half-expecting to wake up from this dream any moment. It was just too amazing to be real. 

* * *

The early morning light streams in through the closed curtains in the Gilmore family living room as Rory walks inside, shutting the front door as quietly as possible. Smiling happily to herself, she tiptoes through the foyer, hoping that her mother had slept in like she has almost every Sunday for the past god knows how long. Having Lorelai find out about her middle-of-the-night psychotic break was not something she envisioned going well. The living room is empty; Rory lets out a small sigh of relief. Rory turns to go to her bedroom and is met with Lorelai, sitting at the kitchen table, a look of restrained anger on her face. Rory's face falls, instant shame and worry rising within her. 

"Well, good morning there. And where the hell have you been?" 

"I can explain," Rory answers quickly, not having the faintest idea how she's going to do it without having her mother freak out. 

"Well you better do it fast and you better do it from over there," Lorelai states harshly, standing up. "You have exactly three seconds to give me one good reason why I wake up to the sound of the Jeep pulling out of the driveway at 3am and you returning over 5 hours later with a hickey the size of Alaska on your neck. Because after three seconds I think I'm going to lose my temper. So you better start talking." 

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are love. 


	14. Shaky First Steps

_Chapter Fourteen: Shaky First Steps_

Rory stares at her mother helplessly, at a complete loss for words. Her hand self-consciously covers her neck, though not knowing if she's succeeding in hiding any mark Tristan may have left. His lips had traveled over her neck time and time again and Rory blushes in embarrassment at the very thought of the evidence he obviously left behind. 

Lorelai stares right back at her daughter, the words "seventeen years old" and "sex" flashing before her eyes at a rapid fire pace. Images of her innocent Rory spending the night with Tristan stung harshly, the anger boiling up within her. She wills Rory to say something before she explodes. 

"Nothing happened," Rory says hurriedly. The words seemed like an outright lie to them both the second they hit the air. Lorelai rolls her eyes and walks toward Rory. 

"Yeah right, nothing happened. You expect me to believe that?" Lorelai responds, on the verge of hysteria. "You sneak off in the middle of the night to Tristan's house - in my car, might I add - and come back hours later with a hickey challenging Asia as the largest continent and your shirt ripped and you say nothing happened?" Rory glances down at her shirt and realizes for the first time that there is a tear in the bottom hem. It only went up about an inch or so, but it might as well have been torn apart completely and held together by string. 

"It got caught in the car door," she quickly states, that being the first thing that came to her head. She has absolutely no recollection of how it had happened; it could've been the car door, for all she knew. 

Lorelai stops for a moment, trying to gather her wits. 

"You..." She stops again, closing her eyes. "I can't believe..." Lorelai sits down at the kitchen table. "You, sit down." Rory doesn't catch what her mother said and her hesitation to comply only adds fuel to Lorelai's fire. "Sit. Now." 

"Sitting," Rory takes a seat quickly. As soon as Rory does so, Lorelai stands up, frustrated. 

"What were you thinking? Doing that?" 

"I-"

"Are you crazy?" 

"No, I-"

"I was worried sick! I woke up to the sound of the car pulling out of the driveway at like, 3am and I go downstairs, thinking I must be hearing crazy things because you know, I'm crazy...but you're not there! No idea where you are. And I'm sitting here, and I'm sitting here...I called Luke and woke him up and I called Sookie and woke her up...I even called Mrs. Kim! Do you know what it's like to wake _that_ woman up at 4 in the morning because I can't find my daughter? She's never going to let you see Lane again, I hope you realize that." 

"Mom-"

"I almost called Dean-"

"You didn't," Rory cringes and Lorelai holds up her hand. 

"I thought maybe you'd had some kind of second thoughts about things, wanted to talk to him...fine...but then I came to my senses and realized...no...she's probably in Hartford having sex with Tristan!" She shrieks. Rory screws up her face in confusion. 

"You did not think that," she retorts, knowing Lorelai would've never jumped automatically to such a conclusion. 

"No, no...but I'm thinking it now. And am I wrong?" 

"Yes, you are," Rory replies strongly, meeting Lorelai's eyes. 

"I am." Lorelai doesn't believe her at all. 

"We didn't do anything." 

"That's exactly what you said the last time this happened. Which, as I recall, led to you swearing to me it'd never happen again. But lo and behold...!" 

"Nothing did happen that time with Dean and you know it." 

"I know that. This is different." 

"How is this different?" Rory cries out. 

"Because. It is." 

"Why?" 

"Because Dean isn't Tristan DuGrey, that's why. With Dean, you read a book, fall asleep, wake up the next morning and run home. You telling me that's what you did last night?" 

"No, I'm not," Rory replies, then pauses, trying to think of the best way to handle the situation. "Look, I'm really sorry I went out without telling you. I shouldn't have done that, no matter what. But Tristan and I didn't do anything." 

"That's a load of crap, Rory, and if you think I'm believing it, you have absolutely no respect for me at all," Lorelai states, folding her arms in front of her chest and arching an eyebrow at her. Rory avoids her gaze, knowing she's right. She fidgets with her hands for a few moments before giving in. 

"So maybe we did _something_ but we didn't do..._it_," Rory informs her mother, still not looking at her. Lorelai sighs, running her hands through her hair. 

"You can't do this, Ror, you can't. You can't be running off to some guy's house in the middle of the night to make out or whatever the hell you did..." 

"I know that, Mom, I do...I just..." 

"Just what?" 

"I had to talk to Tristan about some things." 

"What things." 

"Dean things. Us things." 

"So there's definitely an 'us' now, huh?" Lorelai asks flatly, not too thrilled with the prospect. Rory nods. 

"There is. There's a big us." 

"A big us? Great." The sarcasm stings. 

"Mom-"

"Really, a little us would've been fine. In fact, midget us would've been perfect. Actually, no. Microscopic us would be the best." Lorelai turns away from her daughter, still clearly wavering between freaking out and calming down. Rory watches her mother's knuckles turn white as she clutches anxiously onto a dish towel, twisting it in her grasp. 

"Just because Tristan and I are together doesn't mean I'm going to get pregnant, Mom. I'm not going to have sex with him." 

"You say that now..."

"I know what that costs...I'm not going to throw away everything you've given me," Rory tells her earnestly, standing up. "Don't you know that? You have to know that." 

Lorelai turns back, her face softening at Rory's plea. 

"I know that you wouldn't throw it away intentionally, honey, I...I've seen the way you look at him, Rory. And the way he looks at you. It scares the hell out of me. Because one night he's going to look at you like that and you're going to look right back and you're going to think, 'as long as we're safe,' and then it's going to be trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble." 

"I'm not going to do that." 

"You're a teenage girl in love with a charming, incredibly handsome boy, Rory. You want to guarantee me that you won't?" Lorelai asks and Rory falls silent. 

"I won't," Rory replies after a moment, her voice cracking. In that second after her voice fades off, she knows. Lorelai knows. There are some promises that shouldn't be made. Lorelai crosses the kitchen and stops in front of Rory, tears stinging her eyes. She reaches out and runs her hand through Rory's long brown hair. Her eyes move over her daughter's young, innocent face, her wide blue eyes searching for some kind of forgiveness for her late-night mistake. Looking at Rory like that broke her heart. The thought of that innocence disappearing made her heart break. 

Biting her lip, Lorelai shakes her head and steps back. 

"Mom..." Rory starts and Lorelai shakes her head again. 

"I have to go to Luke's for a little while, Rory. I just...we'll talk more later..." Lorelai grabs her purse and heads for the door, ignoring Rory's pleas for her to stay. Rory follows her off of the porch before giving up, letting Lorelai run away. It was no use to try and stop her. 

Distraught, Rory goes back inside and heads to her bedroom, curling up underneath her familiar bedcovers, still unmade from her tossing and turning the night prior. Pulling her extra pillow close and hugging it tightly, she lets tears of frustration and pain flow, feeling somehow things would not be the same between her and her mother when she came home. 

After ten minutes of staring at her ceiling through her tears and wishing that Lorelai would walk back through the door, Rory rolls over and grabs the phone from her nightstand, dialing Lane's number without even thinking. 

Mrs. Kim picks up and for a second Rory almost hangs up on her. 

"Hello, Mrs. Kim, this is Rory. Is Lane home?" Her voice is still choked up from crying but 

Mrs. Lane is too busy judging her to notice.

"Lane? Yes of course she is home. She does not run off in middle of the night like you. She always tell her mother where she is. She is good girl." 

"May I please speak with her?" Rory asks politely, trying to ignore Mrs. Kim's harsh comments. She sits up straight in her bed, coughing once slightly and rubbing her eyes clear of tears. 

"If I want my daughter to become harlot, I send her to your house. I do not want harlot. Therefore you will not speak with her." 

"It's really very important, Mrs. Kim. If I could just talk to her for a minute...?" Rory pleads. She can envision Mrs. Kim on the other end of the line, giving her a disapproving scowl and preparing to hang up. 

"No. You can not." Click. Though Rory expected it, the sound of the dial tone hurts more than it usually does when Mrs. Kim decided that Rory's a bad influence. Knowing that it probably wasn't the best idea at the moment, Rory dials Tristan's number anyway, needing to hear his voice. 

"Hello?" He's groggy, his words muffled. Rory sinks back into her pillows. 

"Hey..." she says softly, as if fearing speaking too loud would hurt him, like he had a hangover. 

"Hey..." Tristan immediately sounds more alert. "I figured you'd be catching up on some sleep." 

"Sounds like you were," Rory responds. 

"You get home okay?" 

"My mom was up when I got back," she informs him, her own voice betraying her instantly. 

"Oh god..." Tristan is quiet for a moment. "Was she mad?" 

"Steaming." 

"I'm so sorry, Ror." 

"It's not your fault," Rory shakes her head into the phone receiver. "It was my choice to come over, not yours." 

"But I begged you to stay." 

"You didn't have to beg, I wanted to," Rory tells him honestly. "I wanted to do everything that we did last night," she continues, her words heavy with meaning. 

"So did I," Tristan replies softly, his thoughts drifting back to a mere few hours earlier, when Rory had been in his arms. "What did you tell Lorelai?" 

"That we talked. We made out a little. That's all. I don't know if she believes me." 

"That's really all we did," Tristan says. 

"That's not all we did, Tristan," Rory responds defensively, as if worried that he's not going to acknowledge the hugeness of what really went on. 

"I know that's not all..." his voice shifts slightly deeper, slipping into that particular husky teasing whisper that always sent a tingle down Rory's spine. "But in essence..." 

"In essence we did everything but..." Rory corrects him shyly, glancing around her room like she's worried someone will hear her. 

"In essence, I still have your taste in my mouth," Tristan finally takes the plunge, his words lilting with desire. Rory blushes as deep a red as she ever has, not believing those words just came out of his mouth. About her. She'd always expected to feel dirty at a time like this...instead she felt beautiful, happy. 

"I can't tell her about things like that." Rory tugs at the corner of her pillow. "I've never...I mean, there's been things I've been hesitant to tell my mom before, things I've hidden...but there's never been anything that I eventually couldn't talk about with her, Tristan. And this..." Rory sighs. "What am I supposed to say to her? I can't tell her about what we did." 

"Ror, would you even want to? There's some things you simply don't share...unless you're on Sex and the City. I know sharing everything is kind of the way you two live your lives but...there comes a point when you simply...can't. I mean, you're not in Say Anything. That girl told her dad everything and that was creepy. Personally, I wouldn't want you to give your mom the details if we were having sex." 

"I don't want to tell her the _details_, Tristan," Rory rolls her eyes into the phone, though she knows that him bringing up the movie was an attempt to lighten her up. "I'm not going to sit there and tell her where your hands went or how you kissed, I just want to be able to...not lie to her." 

"You didn't lie, Rory," Tristan reminds her and she sighs. There is a pause and Rory can almost hear the teasing smile creep across his face. "So...how do I kiss?" 

"What?" Rory asks. 

"Do I do it all right?" He inquires and Rory outright laughs. "What?" 

"It's just you...asking if you kiss all right. I would assume you've had enough experience with that, Tristan," Rory replies, still giggling. "You seeking reassurance for something you know you do quite well is blatantly silly." 

"Practice makes perfect and I haven't had much practice kissing you," Tristan retorts. "It's different." 

"Yeah, it is," Rory acknowledges, looking down at her bedspread and splaying her fingers along the patterns in the fabric. Her continued silence makes Tristan think she's doubting him. 

"It is different, Ror. And it always will be. You know that, right?" 

"I know that," Rory states, nodding into the phone, knowing why he said that. "That wasn't what I was thinking about." 

"Then what were you thinking about?" 

"I was thinking that I really want to see you," she admits, bringing her hand to her face. Her cheeks color slightly. "And I was thinking about last night and..." 

"And?" Tristan prompts gently, his voice low. 

"And...I guess I was thinking about doing it all again. Soon." 

"That's the great thing about being together, Rory. We can. Anytime we want to." Tristan's voice comes over the line and washes over her body like a warm caress, his intimate tone causing Rory to close her eyes. She can almost imagine him whispering it right into her ear, his body close to hers. 

"I hate the fact that you have me looking forward to school tomorrow," Rory murmurs and he laughs again. "It seems wrong on so many levels." 

"You mean you don't love going to Chilton, Mary?" Tristan taunts. "I know I do." 

"We have to work on the next issue of The Beat. We're seriously behind. Last week was too much work without you there." 

"Well I'll be there this time." 

"It's good have things back to normal," Rory states, inwardly thinking that this wasn't "normal," per se. If it was what she once considered normal, she'd be with Dean and trying desperately to deny her feelings for Tristan. 

"This is better than normal," Tristan corrects her before she can do so herself. She smiles as he takes the words right out of her mouth. 

"We can work on it after school." 

"Sounds like a plan to me." 

"I better get going. If my mom comes back and I'm on the phone with you, it's only going to make things worse," Rory explains and Tristan sighs. 

"Can I call later and see how things went?" 

"I should probably just talk to you tomorrow morning. After I get off the bus." 

"I can't pick you up?" 

"We should give her time to cool down." 

"I think maybe I should let her yell at me and get it done with," Tristan responds. "I don't want to end up sneaking around because your mom hates me. And I certainly don't plan on never making out with you again so that solution is out of the question." 

"Okay, she can yell at you," Rory agrees. "But just not tomorrow, okay? She's still going to be really angry." 

"I feel like a dick for not being able to help you out after I got you in trouble." 

"_I_ got me in trouble. And you're not a dick. Arrogant and immature, maybe. But not a dick." 

"Where'd the love go?' Tristan jokes. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Judas." 

"Bye, Mar." 

The click of the phone and the sound of the dial tone leaves Rory alone in her room once more, feeling slightly better than a few minutes before. She listens for the sound of the front door opening, hoping her mom will walk in, but the sound never comes.

* * *

Rory steps out of Tristan's car in front of the Stars Hollow public library, glancing around the town square apprehensively. Tristan watches her, wondering what she's doing. 

"Are you trying to spot secret agents?" Tristan whispers in her ear as she steps up onto the curb next to him. 

"Yes," She replies seriously, looking around again. "I told my mom that we'd be going to the library today after school to meet Lane. I'm sure she has Kirk sitting across the park watching or Taylor Doose radioing her updates every few minutes on our progress." 

"Ror, she wouldn't do that," Mary remarks as she finishes dragging her heavy bookbag out of the backseat, finally joining the conversation. Rory shoots her a look. 

"She wouldn't let us work at my house because she wouldn't be there. Even when you and Lane were there. But she wouldn't let me stay in Hartford. And we can't go to Lane's because Mrs. Kim now thinks I'm a prostitute. So, here we are, the public library. And while my mom agreed that this was an adequate locale, that doesn't mean she doesn't have backup plans installed and ready to go." 

"You make Lorelai sound like she's the CIA," Lane responds as she walks up to them, having been waiting on the steps. 

"She's getting there." 

"My mom is CIA headquarters, Rory. Your mom is Austin Powers compared to her." 

"It took me three days to convince her to let me get together with you guys for this," Rory points out and Lane waffles. 

"She's just being overprotective. It's Tristan's fault," Lane smirks at him. "If he could keep his cute little paws off you for two seconds-" 

"Hey, it's not like Rory hasn't been partaking in some pawing of her own," Tristan defends himself, smiling. Rory rolls her eyes at him, re-adjusting her packed book bag on her shoulder. Tristan takes it from her without asking and she snatches after it. Tristan waves her off. "It's just a backpack, Ror, not the decline of feminine power." 

"And so sweet and chivalrous too," Mary teases and Tristan groans. 

"I think we need another guy on the staff, I am starting to feel seriously outnumbered here." 

"You know you like it," Rory responds, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek playfully. He looks around immediately, mock suspicious. 

"What about the spies?" He asks, joking. Rory elbows him and walks toward the main entrance of the library. 

"Work time," she states. Lane and Mary hurry after her. Tristan, shaking his head, follows more slowly. Creepily, he does in fact feel someone's eyes boring into his back. Glancing over his shoulder, he is in time to see Kirk duck behind a bush. He walks into the library with Kirk's cries of pain echoing around him, the poor man having the unfortunate accident of discovering the bush was indeed a prickly one.

* * *

"So, you heard anything on the library yet?" Luke asks Lorelai, interrupting her entrancement with her cell phone. She glances up. 

"No. Not a word. Is that a good sign?" 

"You know, I was only kidding," Luke says, putting his hands on the counter and looking at her skeptically. Lorelai gives him a fake smile. 

"Oh yeah. Me too." He eyes her suspiciously and she continues. "Really." 

"Sure..." Luke nods, then looks down to his notepad as he offhandedly says: "Too bad about Kirk and that bush. You hear about that?" 

"What happened?" Lorelai pleads innocent. "Kirk ran into a bush?" 

"You shouldn't be spying on her," Luke warns. Lorelai snorts and takes a sip of her coffee. "I don't know how you think that's going to solve anything." 

"I am not _spying_, Luke. I am merely periodically checking up on her." 

"Yeah, you and your minions." 

"What minions? I have no minions." 

"Your evil minions." 

"How am I evil?" 

"You want a chart or a bulleted list?" 

" You know, I seem to recall you flipping out Sunday morning when I told you where Rory had been all night. I believe the words 'kill' and 'Tristan' were in fact used in the same sentence," Lorelai points a finger at him, narrowing her eyes. 

"Did I say I wasn't upset?" Luke responds. "I'm just sayin' that this is probably not the best way of going about it." 

"You have a better idea?" 

"Lorelai, you trust Rory, don't you?" 

"Yes..." Lorelai replies warily. 

"Then what's the problem here?" 

"6 foot tall blonde lover boy, that's the problem. I'd trust Rory with my life, my soul, my chinese take-out menu...but I don't trust her to know that pretty faces don't lead to pretty things all the time." 

"I think she knows that. You've instilled your twisted logic into her." 

"How is my logic twisted?" Lorelai asks, offended. Luke puts his hands up, signaling that she needed to let him explain what he means. 

"Lookit...the idea of Rory with this guy...I'm scared. And I'm not even her dad, all right? It's scary because it is scary." 

"And _I_ have twisted logic?" 

"What I mean is...it's natural for us to worry, and to be scared that she's gonna slip up." 

"What makes you think she won't? She's not Wonder Woman, after all. I doubt she has will of steel." 

"You don't need that much willpower to make the right choice here." 

"Excuse me, have you seen Tristan?" Lorelai asks, confounded. "I mean, have you _looked_ at this boy? At all?" 

"Yes, I've seen the kid." 

"Then you should know that no one, not even Rory, has that much willpower." 

"I would hope you would, considering this kid is seventeen." 

"Must you be so difficult?" Lorelai rolls her eyes. "You know what I meant. And besides, I think that fact that I had Rory at 16 proves very well that I don't." 

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't be worrying. Rory has grown up very well aware of what _that_ mistake does, Lorelai. She _is_ that mistake. But she's a teenager. Let her be one." 

"It's funny...you telling me to let her be a teenager. I was the ultimate teenager. That's what I'm afraid of!" 

"I did things in high school too, you know. Nothing happened to me." 

"What did _you_ do in high school, Star Trek boy?" Lorelai inquires and Luke shoots her a glare. 

"More than you would think," Luke responds, tucks his pencil over his ear and walks away. Lorelai watches him go, trying not to let it show that her interest is a bit piqued. She is about to get up and follow him into the backroom when she comes face to face with Kirk. His sweater has catch marks all over it, his hands and face covered in thin, tiny red scratches. 

"Yikes, what happened to you?" She says and is met with an unamused expression on his face. 

"You know what happened to me, Lorelai." 

"I haven't got a clue, sorry," Lorelai backs away. 

"I'm sending you the doctor's bill," he tells her as she grabs her jacket and slips it on. 

"Occupational hazard, Kirk," Lorelai shrugs and dashes out the door. A cry of "Workman's Compensation!" follows her down the street.

* * *

Tristan stares at Rory from across the table. He was supposed to be re-reading the last issue of Rolling Stone for his critique on their utter lack of competence in discovering bands before the rest of the world already did, but delving into journalistic bandwagoning is the furthest thing from his mind. 

Mary nudges him warningly and he quickly averts his gaze from Rory's face, so perfectly furrowed in deep concentration. Lane leans over and whispers something into Rory's ear and she turns a faint shade of pink. He figures Lane has just blown him in entirely. 

"You do realize you've been reading an Absolut ad for fifteen minutes?" Lane murmurs to Rory and she turns the page, embarrassed. 

"It was interesting," she whispers back. 

"It had two words on it," Lane retorts and goes back to scribbling notes on the importance of Paul Westerberg. 

Rory reads the first few lines of the latest article about the newly re-trendy David Bowie - she corrects herself immediately in her head, knowing Lane would say he's never been not in style. Lane preached the gospel of Bowie like no other. Leaving Bowie behind, she sneaks a peek at Tristan. His gaze is focused intently on the magazine in front of him. Repressing the urge to reach across the table, grab and kiss him, Rory instead glances around self-consciously and then slowly moves her foot across the floor under the table. Letting her shoe fall off, her stockinged foot comes in contact with Tristan's leg. He shifts, his eyes fleeting up to meet hers momentarily. Daringly, she moves upward toward his lap; she can tell he's trying desperately not to let on what she's doing to the others around the table. Lane catches Rory looking at Tristan again and Rory sheepishly appears to go back to work, not moving her foot away from Tristan's body. 

Both Lane and Mary are completely aware of the lack of hormonal control happening next to them. 

"Rory, your shoe?" Mary bends down and picks up Rory's stray shoe, which had fallen next to her chair. Rory pulls her foot away from Tristan so fast that she hits the table with her knee. Wincing, she reaches across the table and takes the shoe from Mary quickly. 

"Thanks. Those things are so damn uncomfortable...hard to keep 'em on," she mutters, her face flushing. Tristan coughs, embarrassed, and shifts in his seat again. Lane and Mary stifle their laughter at their friends' situation, finding their behavior to be hilarious. A few minutes pass before Tristan coughs again, slapping his magazine shut with a frustrated sigh. 

"You know, this issue really has nothing of use in it. I'm going to try to find a different one." 

"I'll come help you look," Rory jumps up, following him away from the table. 

"My, I wonder what that was about," Lane says to Mary, pretending to be confused. Mary shrugs. 

"I couldn't even imagine," she laughs. 

"I mean, could they be any more transparent?" Lane asks, rolling her eyes. 

"I don't think so," Mary agrees, then pauses. "Though it's kind of cute, in a way." 

"They're going to be gone a little while, I assume. You want to go get something to eat at vending?" 

"Good idea." Mary grabs some change from her purse and follows Lane toward the vending machines at the front end of the library. 

Meanwhile, Rory is following Tristan toward the back of the library, down a tall, long aisle full of old stacks of National Geographics and such. Finding no one there, Tristan leads her down it and, sure that they're out of sight, pulls her close to him. 

"We shouldn't be doing this," Rory protests. "My mom is going to find out." 

"She won't," Tristan assures her. "No one is around." 

"We're going to get caught. I really shouldn't..." Rory responds, nevertheless moving her face towards his. 

"Then why'd you follow me?" Tristan asks and Rory knows he's got her there. She meets his kisses welcomingly, letting him pull her body tight against his as she ropes her arms around his neck. 

"We're supposed to be working," Rory points out as Tristan's mouth moves downward. "Don't, Tristan, it's finally fading. My mom will know." In response he undoes the top button of her Chilton blouse and shifts her collar slightly right, kissing her collarbone and shoulder instead. 

"She won't see anything there," Tristan murmurs. Rory starts to respond when he finds exactly the perfect spot and she changes her mind. 

"No, she won't," she allows. Hearing someone faintly whistling, Rory jumps away from Tristan just in time. Mr. Holloway, a teacher from Stars Hollow, strolls down the aisle, humming and whistling under his breath. Rory pretends to be looking for something on the shelf, as does Tristan. 

She holds up the first magazine she comes across and gestures to Tristan. 

"Is this it?" 

"No, it's a different one," he responds, moving next to her. He glances over at Mr. Halloway to make sure he's not looking, then reaches across to the shelf, purposely moving his arm to brush against her body as he picks up another one. Rory takes a deep breath, glancing over at the teacher self-consciously. " This one," Tristan hands it to her. Rory accepts it, her eyes not moving from his lips. 

"Oh," She flips through it slowly, acting like she's trying to recall something. "And then what else did we need?" 

"I don't remember." 

"Oh yeah, it was this one," Rory moves in front of him, bending down and standing back up slowly. The fact that she intended to move against him was not lost on Tristan, or Mr. Holloway. Picking up a magazine with a faint, amused smile, he heads out of the aisle. Tristan and Rory don't notice his amusement, they're just glad he's gone. 

"You're cruel," Tristan says to her, turning her to face him. 

"And you're not?" She shoots back. "He probably noticed." 

"He probably didn't," Tristan shrugs, rubbing his hands up and down her arms slowly. "I can't go back there and work, Ror. I can't do anything but think about kissing you." 

"I think we're going to have serious problems," Rory states as he dips his head and catches her lips with his again. 

"That we are," he breathes into her ear. They're right back up to par with where they were moments before, eagerly exploring one another. It still felt like the very first time they had kissed, the sensation of his lips on hers so new and exciting. Rory didn't know what it was about doing this, here, in public, but it was thrilling. Her pulse is racing a mile a minute; she feels like she's breaking the law. And she can't get enough of it. 

One of Tristan's hands move to touch her breast through her shirt and the impulse to tell him not to surprisingly doesn't come. Rory tugs on the collar of his shirt, wishing that it wasn't there, in the way of her skin touching his. Wishing that there was nothing between them at all. They kiss violently, passionately; heads moving, tongues twisting, hands everywhere. Completely lost in one another, they do not notice when they go from being alone to being watched. 

A sudden cough causes them to jump away from one another, startled. Rory quickly adjusts her shirt, skirt, hair, face, all at once in a flurry of embarrassment. Tristan self-consciously wipes his mouth, trying to wipe off any lipstick Rory may have left as he looks to see who has interrupted. 

Dean stares at Rory, the shock and hurt plain as day in his blue eyes. He looks from her to Tristan, taking it all in. They are both disheveled, clothes twisted, hair mussed, breathless. Rory's soft lips still look freshly kissed, her beautiful eyes looking different than he'd ever seen them before. He'd only been standing there for a mere moment before he had let them know of his presence, but that moment was emblazoned in his mind. Certain images burned his vision, like pieces of a bigger puzzle. Tristan's hand on her chest. Rory moving her mouth against his. Her left hand tangled in his hair. Her right pulling harshly on his collar. Her tongue darting out to lick his lips. Their legs pressed tightly together. Her mouth opening as a small groan escaped her throat. Tristan's hands on Rory's back, pulling her close. 

The idea of Rory being with Tristan had already been too much to think about. He'd imagined her kissing Tristan many a time in his head, jealous and hurt. But his own imagination could not even muster the fire with which Rory had touched Tristan, her need and desire for him so evident that it almost made the air crackle with electricity. Dean knew there were no comfortable, chaste kisses between them, no quaint hugs or sweet hand holding. No innocence, no taking it slow. Rory wanted Tristan. Wanted him. 

"It's the girl scout," Clara whispers very loudly to Dean, to make up for the distance between her mouth and his ear. Rory's panicked eyes dart down to his younger sister, then to Dean. He continues to stare at her, not able to react. 

"Uh...hi, Clara," Rory manages to squeak out, crossing her arms self-consciously over her chest. Tristan moves toward Rory protectively. Dean shakes his head, turning to his sister. He ignores Rory, his attention on Clara completely. 

"What did you need, Clar? A picture of a blue whale?" Dean asks her, turning her toward the shelf. Taking Rory's hand, Tristan tentatively slips past Rory's ex-boyfriend. They leave without saying a word. 

"I thought the girl scout liked you?" Rory can hear Clara ask Dean as she and Tristan walk away. Tristan sees the pain move clearly across Rory's face and he squeezes her hand reassuringly. 

"She doesn't," Dean tells Clara, not looking at her. "I think this will have good pictures. Why don't you check?" He hands her an issue of National Geographic and then continues looking. 

"But don't you like her?" Clara is persistent. 

"Not anymore, Clara. Look through the magazine," he instructs her sternly and she obeys, knowing what that tone coming from her older brother meant. 

Rory and Tristan make their way back to the table, which is now vacant. Not asking where Lane and Mary could've gone, Rory sits down. Tristan sits next to her. 

"I think that pretty much rules out making out in public places," Rory says, closing her eyes. "I can't believe I was so idiotic." 

"You have to admit, it was good until that point, wasn't it?" Tristan inquires, trying to lighten up the situation. Rory turns to him. 

"It was. And it shouldn't have been. How could I have been so stupid?" 

"You're not stupid, Ror," Tristan tells her, then hesitates. "Do you think that Dean's going to say anything to your mom?" 

"No," Rory replies, and she knows he won't. "He wouldn't do anything like that." 

"It figures that of all people it had to be him." 

"Of course it did," Rory sighs, then looks up at him. "You know, this is twice, Tristan." 

"Twice, what?" He asks, not sure what she means but not liking the sound of it. 

"Twice that you've made me lose complete control of my sanity. How do you do it?" 

"I'm gifted, I guess," Tristan says, taking Rory's hand in his, glad that a small smile is dancing across her lips despite herself. He gives her a small kiss on the lips and then leans his forehead against hers. "You make me go crazy too, if it makes you feel any better." 

"It kind of does," she responds. "Seriously though...we can't do anything like that ever again. That was a one time only thing." 

"Of course," Tristan says and Rory hits his arm. 

"You don't think I'm serious." 

"Yes I do." 

"Then stop smiling." 

"I can't stop. I just made out with you in a library." 

"Tristan-" 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" 

"Make out in a library? You have strange fantasies." 

"No, do that with you. Anywhere. The fact that this is actually happening still hasn't hit me yet." 

"It scares the hell outta me, that's for sure," Rory tells him and he doesn't have to ask to know exactly what she means. 

"Me too." He picks up her hand and kisses it gently. "I'm sorry about what happened with Dean." 

"Oh, no you're not," Rory laughs lightly. He shakes his head. 

"I am. Granted, I'm glad that you're with me...but I pity the guy who ever loses you." 

A gagging noise is heard from behind the pair and they whirl around to see Lane and Mary standing there with chips and pop. 

"You two done being insipidly cutesy now? We have work to do," Lane plops down. 

"I can't wait for the honeymoon period to be over." Mary states. Lane looks at Rory and Tristan as they settle down to work. 

"It's going to take freakin' forever!"

* * *

Lorelai races into the Crap Shack, purse flailing as she dashes to catch the phone before the machine picks it up. Kicking off one of her shoes that had already been trying to come off, she gets to it just in time. 

"Hello?" 

"You sound terrible, Lorelai, are you all right?" 

"Mom. Hi," Lorelai's face falls. She frowns as she tries to catch her breath. "I'm fine. Just running to get the phone." 

"Perhaps if you kept it in the right place, you wouldn't have any problem getting to it," Emily points out and Lorelai rolls her eyes. 

"It actually was in the right place, but I was just coming home from work and-" Lorelai stops, knowing it's pointless to try and argue the point. "So, what's up?" 

"Nothing really. I just wanted to call and see how my girls were doing, that's all." 

"We're good..." Lorelai replies suspiciously, finangling about to get her other shoe off while not dropping the phone. "Uh, how are you?" 

"I'm delightful, thank you. Anything new in your lives this week?" 

"Not much has happened since Friday, Ma," Lorelai shrugs. 

"Oh, well. I just thought that perhaps you might want to invite a third guest to our dinner this week. Or rather, that Rory would." 

A realization dawns on Lorelai and she groans. 

"Who did you hear it from?" 

"Pardon me?" 

"About Rory and Tristan. Who did you hear it from? And how? It just happened." 

"Oh, so it is true. May Hathaway mentioned that her daughter June had been telling one of her friends that Rory was dating Tristan DuGrey so May called me right up to see if it was true. Of course, since I'm not quite in the loop, I didn't know if it was in fact the case. I'm so glad to hear that it is." 

"Excuse me, but whose name is May Hathaway? It rhymes, for chrissake. And her daughter's name is June? It's so cruel." 

"Lorelai..." 

"Yes, Mom, Rory and Tristan are dating now. I'm sorry I didn't call you and fill you in the second the decision was made, but I didn't think it was so important that it couldn't wait until Friday night. I apologize for my lack of vision." 

"Apology accepted." 

Lorelai holds the phone back and looks at the receiver in dismay, clearly not believing that her mother is really serious. 

"Now, about Friday night. I really think Rory should invite Tristan over. It would be polite, considering our families are such good friends." 

"I've never met Tristan's parents. Or anyone from his family, for that matter." 

"Well, I'll have to arrange something then. His grandfather truly is a wonderful man. Richard used to do business with him on a regular basis." 

"That I did know," Lorelai says, unamused. 

"So, is it a plan, then?" 

"I don't think it's a good idea, Mom. They only just got together, you might scare him and his family away," Lorelai half-kids. 

"He's already met us, Lorelai. For goodness sakes, he has been friends with Rory for awhile, hasn't he?" 

"It just seems pre-emptory." 

"I thought it would be a nice gesture." 

"Let's at least give it a week and then we can gesture all we want, how about that? We will gesticulate until we go crazy with joy." 

"I truly-" 

"Mom." 

"Oh all right. I'm sorry for taking an active interest in my granddaughter's life. Forgive me." 

"Oh dear god," Lorelai brings her hand to her forehead, frustrated. 

"I really should know better by now. What ever was I thinking of?" 

"I'm not saying that you can't take an interest in Rory, Mom. Did those words ever come out of my mouth?" 

"They might as well have, Lorelai. I'm an intelligent woman, I can read between the lines." 

"All I am trying to say if that Rory has just broken up with Dean. She has rushed headlong into this thing with Tristan and now might not be the best time to be throwing a celebratory dinner, all right?" Lorelai explains and the silence on the other end of the line warns her that the response is going to be even worse than before. 

"What, don't you like Tristan?" 

"Tristan's fine, Mom." 

"I've only heard good things about him. And so charming too. He's going to go far. Exactly what Rory needs." 

"Yeah, he certainly is a charmer," Lorelai replies, biting back the urge to say that her mother might not think Tristan DuGrey is what Rory needs at all, if she knew exactly how "charming" he really is. 

"Rory and he looked so perfect together the last time I saw them. Quite the society couple, really. People are already abuzz," Emily tells her daughter excitedly. Lorelai is anything but thrilled at the prospect. 

"You know, Ma, I think I smell something burning. I better go check and see if everything's all right," Lorelai tells her mother, her voice tired. She closes her eyes, praying to god that Emily will just give up. 

"Fine, Lorelai. We'll wait on dinner with the DuGreys, if that's what you really want. We'll have further discussion about this later." 

"All right. Gotta go. See you Friday, Mom," Lorelai clicks off the phone as soon as her mother says good-bye and then tosses it across the room onto the couch. "Arrrrrggggghhhh!" 

"What'd the phone ever do to you?" Luke's voice comes from behind her. She whirls around, glaring. 

"It's a tool of evil, that's what! It was the vessel through which my mother talked to me and therefore deserves a lot more than a toss across the room," Lorelai snipes, then sighs, frustrated. "What are you doing here? I thought you were working late tonight." 

"Got Caesar to close up for me. It was slow," Luke explains, walking in through the open door and then pushing it closed behind him. "What did your mom want?" 

"She already found out about Rory and Tristan. Wanted to throw them an engagement party immediately. Celebrate! A Gilmore finally has snagged a society snob!" Lorelai groans. "It irks me that she's happy about this. I almost wanted to tell her that Rory's so hot for this kid that she's been acting like me. That would've shut her up." 

"Or given her a heart attack," Luke grunts. A devilish glint appears in Lorelai's eye and Luke shakes his head. 

"Aw, I was only kinda thinking about it," Lorelai waves him off. She goes to the couch and plops down, kicking the phone to the floor in anger. Luke walks over to her, standing a few feet away. 

"This Tristan kid...he isn't really a, what was it? A society snob?" 

Lorelai looks up at Luke, shrugging. She thinks for a while. 

"I guess he's not," Lorelai tugs on her hair. "I mean, he's not...really. In all fairness, I liked him until a few days ago." 

"Just try and remember that," Luke states. Lorelai gives him a pouty face and tugs on his sleeve. 

"This week has sucked, Luke. Make it better," Lorelai pleads, moving in close to him. He obligingly wraps his arms around her and pulls her close to his chest. She breathes in his familiar scent and immediately finds herself relaxing into his embrace. 

"This better?" He murmurs, kissing the top of her head gently. Lorelai closes her eyes and nods, smiling into the plaid flannel fabric. 

"Hugging you is like hugging my bed sheets. Except my bed sheets with a man underneath them," she tells him. She pauses after that, looking up at him as if a great idea has struck them. "In fact..." She jumps up and grabs his hand, then tugs him toward the stairs. 

"Lorelai..." Luke shakes his head at her. She smiles at him. 

"Rory's at the library," Lorelai assures him. "It's all cool." 

"What if she comes home?" 

"I'll shove you in the closet," Lorelai jokes. "Seriously Luke, she's not freaked out about it. I mean, it's not like she doesn't know that we're shacking up," she states as she nudges him toward the stairs. Luke chuckles. 

"Shacking up, huh? Is that what we're doing?" Luke asks, letting himself be led up the stairs toward Lorelai's bedroom. He raises an eyebrow at her and she grins widely at him, amused. 

"What you don't like that? Cause I can come up with at least a dozen other terms right now if you don't," Lorelai teases. Luke shakes his head. 

"I'm sure you could, but really, no need." 

"Because there's the straightforward ones, i.e. the technical terms for what we're doing, then there's the cautious ones, such as 'sharing a bed," or we could get all biblical and say we're 'laying together' but I always thought that sounded stupid, so-" 

"Shacking up is fine, Lorelai." 

"Are you sure? Cause there are millions of euphemisms out there just waiting to be discovered. I would love to be the one to find them. I'd be the Christopher Columbus of sexual innuendo." 

"You know Columbus isn't a person I'd aspire to be like, if I were you." 

"Why ever not? He was Italian,we love Italians." 

"Yes, and he also murdered countless numbers of natives, stole their land and precious resources and then spent hundreds of years being called the discoverer of America when in reality he thought he'd reached India? I mean, come on." 

"You sure know how to kill a mood," Lorelai screws up her face and sticks her tongue out at him. "Maybe I should have picked a sexier explorer." 

"I don't think any explorer could possibly be sexy," Luke retorts. 

"What about Jacques Cartier? I mean...Cartier...expensive jewelry, watches, hello? Romance? What could be more sexy than a 400 dollar watch?" 

"I can think of about a million things right off the top of my head." 

"Name one." 

"You." 

"Damn, you're good. When did you get so suave?" Lorelai looks at him suspiciously. "All that time, all those grunts...there was an undercover James Bond there. 00-Smooth..." 

"Yeah... _really_ undercover," Luke snorts. "Deep, deep, deep down." 

"But he's there. Somewhere," Lorelai replies. "Maybe if you wear a tux..." Luke rolls his eyes. "What? You look so dashing in a tux." 

"Dashing, eh?" 

"Well, Bond is British. I don't think Octopussy is going to go up to him and say, 'Wow, you're hot'." 

"You know, if I'm wearing a tux, I think you have to wear that orange bikini..." 

"Luke Danes, you're getting a little forward these days. It's my job to be the bold one." 

"We all have our daring days," Luke states. "Are we goin' up or down here?" Luke gestures to the stairs, on which they have been standing for the past few minutes. 

"Oh, up, right," Lorelai laughs and turns to continue. "Let's go." She takes one step up and then the phone rings. Groaning, she tramps back down. "Did you happen to see where that dang phone landed?" 

"Somewhere in that direction..." Luke gestures vaguely toward the windows. "Just go in the direction of the ringing." 

"Cause naturally I would go the other way," Lorelai smirks at him and starts tossing pillows aside, checking the couch. Luke goes over toward the table and gets down on his hands and knees. 

"I just had the worst feeling of de ja vu," he comments. 

"Well, it's not really, cause this actually has happened before. We were just looking for a different thing." 

"Ah ha!" Luke holds up the phone and hands it to her. 

"And without breaking any furniture." Lorelai clicks it on quickly just before the machine picks up. "Hello?" 

"Hi, Lorelai." 

"Lane? All this work and it's not even for me. Not fun." 

"Searching for the phone?" 

"It took a small trip and had to be reeled ba-" Lorelai stops, looking at the phone out of the corner of her eye. "Wait. Aren't you at the library with Rory?" 

"No, we're done. I'm at home and I just realized I took one of Rory's notebooks and she's going to freak." 

"Yes, that she would. Now...how long have you been at home?" 

"About twenty minutes?" Lane replies, unsure. "I figured Rory would be home by now." 

"She's not," Lorelai tells her, her smile becoming very tight. "I'll make sure to give her the message about the notes." 

"Thanks..." Lane says, knowing from Lorelai's voice that she might have just gotten Rory into trouble. Lorelai hangs up the phone and turns to Luke. 

"I don't want to turn into my mother but I just know she's making out with him somewhere and I doubt it's decent," Lorelai whines. Seeing the confused look on Luke's face, she explains as she puts the phone back in its rightful place. "Lane. Been home from the library for twenty minutes already. While Rory and Tristan...?" 

"And your spies didn't alert you?" 

"Hardy har har," Lorelai rolls her eyes. "Forgive me for being concerned." 

"There's a difference between concerned and crazy." 

"Luke, please put this picture in your head and don't forget it. Tristan is walking down the hallway at Chilton. Every single girl in the hallway has already been with him or is dreaming about being with him. He's cocky, he's swaggering, and he stops at Rory's locker. Rory dreamily looks up at him and is carried away by his charms, and they retreat to the janitor's closet for some mid-afternoon fun." 

"Everyone does that." 

"And then maybe to his house after school. His dad works late, his mom's out with her illicit lover, the maid is cleaning in an entirely different wing...the whole huge mansion to themselves. Just Rory and him." Luke's expression gets darker and Lorelai knows she's getting through. 

"Then let me remind you that four days ago she went out in the middle of the night to go to his house and didn't come back for hours? I dare you to call me crazy again for worrying." 

"It's only been twenty minutes, Lor," Luke points out, relieved at the thought of it. "It's ten minutes from the library. Keep things in perspective." Lorelai sighs, knowing he's right. 

"Yeah...I know." She walks to the window and peers out casually. She turns back to him almost immediately and gestures outside. "They're apparently saying good-bye." Luke walks over to the window as she leaves it, almost triumphant. "And they drove back here. That's like, three minutes. Leaving 17 for that." 

Luke moves the curtains and sees Rory and Tristan standing on the curb. She has him pressed back against the side of his silver Camaro, kissing him good-bye and doing it thoroughly. Almost as if knowing they had been found out, Tristan breaks away and whispers something to her. She nods, and with another short kiss, Tristan circles the car and gets into the driver's side. Giving him a small wave good-bye, Rory watches as he drives away and then turns to go back inside. 

The second the front door opens she is met with Lorelai. 

"What?" She asks, knowing what's on the tip of her mother's tongue. "I'm not even allowed to kiss my boyfriend good-bye now either?" Lorelai bites back her words and looks up toward the ceiling for a moment. 

"Uh...no...I just...think fifteen minutes is more than a kiss." 

"I'll set the timer next time." Rory brushes past Lorelai and goes to her bedroom. Lorelai starts to follow her but Rory closes the door. Hurt, Lorelai turns to Luke. There is a moment of silence before Lorelai walks back to Luke. 

"I am my mother. I've officially done it. I've gone to the dark side." Luke envelopes her in his arms and pats her back. 

"No you haven't." 

"I'm Darth Vader. No...I'm the Emperor. I should paint my face all white and pasty and make myself a big shroud." 

"You just gotta calm down, Lorelai, that's all." 

"I know..." Lorelai pulls away and looks up at Luke sadly. "I just...I can't handle this. It was hard when she first got together with Dean...the first boyfriend and all, she was growing up so fast. And now...with this...it's so fast it's just a big blur. It went from worrying about her getting her homework done in time to go out with Dean to worrying about whether or not she's going completely hormonal with Tristan. I don't know how to deal." 

"You're not supposed to know." 

"Yes I am! I've always known, and even if I didn't, I could at least fake it!" 

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Lorelai stops in the midst of her freak-out and stares at Luke as if he'd offered her his second kidney. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You want me to talk to her?" 

"What would you say?" 

"I dunno. But it's worth a shot." Lorelai pauses. And pauses some more. The concept was alien to her. Luke waits patiently, and then impatiently. "It's not going to alter world policy." 

"It might." 

"Lorelai." 

"Oh, okay. Go." 

"I'll be back." He goes to Rory's door and knocks lightly as Lorelai watches him wearily. "Ror?" A few seconds pass before Rory opens the door. Luke goes inside and the door is closed. Lorelai sits down on the couch and fidgets nervously. She sits on her hands but that doesn't help her stop. 

"Listen, Rory...your mom is freaking out," Luke states bluntly. Rory nods adamantly. 

"I know." 

"And you know why." Rory relents slightly in her annoyance. 

"Yes, I do...and I understand, but she won't let up even a little." She sits down at her desk chair and gives Luke a plaintive look. "Can't you talk to her?" 

"I have been. And she's just trying to look out for you. She's worried that Tristan might be..." Luke searches for a delicate way to put it. "Too much for you at once." His eyebrow furrows and he looks away from her. Sex wasn't really something he wanted to talk with Rory about, really. 

"He's not. Tristan isn't forcing me to do anything I want to do," Rory tells him honestly. "She says she trusts me, and I don't see why that's not enough." Luke is quiet and he takes a deep breath. 

"All right. The fact is, your mom is going crazy just thinking about all the things you two could possibly be doing every single second you're alone. And there's no way to stop her from doing that unless she chaperones you constantly." Rory's eyes bulge. "We know that ain't gonna happen." 

"No." 

"So...maybe you could placate her just a little for a few weeks? Cut down on the PDAs, have Tristan over a couple of times to hang out with you and her...let her know him as something more than the potential..." Luke stumbles, looking sheepish. "You know." 

"You really think that just forcing her to spend time with Tristan is really going to do it?" 

"Well...yeah. It might." Luke replies. 

"So simple. Simplicity is never really a good thing with my mother." 

"I'm simple." 

"Point taken," Rory replies. "It's just that she knows Tristan already. And she's apparently decided he's nothing but a guy gunning to strip me of my virginity." Luke looks away, blushing faintly. 

"She knows he's not. She just needs to be reminded of it. Why don't you invite him over for dinner tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow?" 

"Yeah. I'll make something, we can all sit together and talk and crap like that...it'll be good." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Your kitchen will probably go into shock from having its appliances used, but other than that, I'm sure." 

"Should I go clear this with Mom?" 

"I'll take care of it, don't worry about a thing." Rory eyes Luke warily, not quite confident that this is the best plan she's ever heard. 

"Can you just do me a favor and not make anything we need sharp knives for?" 

"You got it." Luke nods. "It'll all work out, Ror. Don't worry." 

"I'll try not to," she smiles at him and he pats her knee before getting up and leaving. "Thanks, Luke." 

"No problem." He leaves her room and goes upstairs to Lorelai's room, where she is waiting. 

"How'd it go?" She asks. 

"Well, I think." He sits down next to her on the bed. "We're going to have Tristan over for dinner tomorrow night." 

"Excuse me?" 

"He's comin' over. We're going to sit down and have a nice meal together, and everything will feel 100 better." 

"Making him more a part of this family isn't going to make me feel better, Luke, it's going to make me feel worse," Lorelai gets up, frustrated. "What I want is for him to just back off, not get closer." 

"Well that's not going to happen. The best you can do is have him get closer of your own volition, on your own terms. At least that way you have some control." 

"Control is an illusion, I'm beginning to think." 

"If Tristan feels any kind of obligation to you, Lorelai, any kind of respect, you won't have to worry about him crossing the line with Rory. Dean respected you, you just have to treat this the same way." 

"Christopher respected my parents," Lorelai responds. Luke raises an eyebrow. 

"I doubt that," Luke states and Lorelai rolls her eyes. 

"Okay, so maybe not as much as he pretended he did." 

"Well there ya go." Lorelai sticks out her tongue at him and then pouts. "You know I'm right." 

"Yeah. So?" Lorelai snaps. Luke puts his arm around her and Lorelai shrugs him off. "I hate it when you're right." 

"Get used to it, it's bound to happen often," Luke replies.

* * *

"Why are you so nervous?" Lane inquires, her eyes following Rory as she paces about her bedroom. She glances back down at the magazine in her lap and then back to Rory. Rory stops for a mere second to check her hair for about the millionth time in the mirror, and then continues her pacing. 

"If things don't go well tonight, Lane, that's it. Tristan will have had it in my mother's mind. I don't know what I'll do if that happens," she smoothes her floral skirt of wrinkles. "God, why am I wearing this? I feel like I'm fifty." 

"How does that make you fifty?" 

"Floral makes fifty," Rory groans. "I feel so frumpy. Tristan's going to wonder why he's even putting up with this." 

"Putting up with what? A dinner with your mom?" Lane asks. "And considering that the whole point of this evening is to convince your mom that you're not going to jump each other, maybe it's better not to look too gorgeous." 

"You're right," Rory whirls around and rushes to her closet. "Maybe I should put on a baggy sweater." 

"What you're wearing is fine." 

"Five minutes ago you were telling me I looked stunning. And now I'm just fine? Which time did you lie?" Rory points a finger at her best friend and Lane grimaces. 

"The second time... " Rory turns back to the closet and Lane jumps up and stops her. "But you shouldn't change. You've changed like, forty-seven times already. You've got to get a grip." 

"I'm gripping." 

"No, you're not. No one would even think you have opposable thumbs," Lane informs her. "I'm going to have to hit you over the head with this just to maintain my own sanity." She holds up the magazine and Rory snorts. 

"I doubt a Cosmo will do much damage," she states. "A Vanity Fair, maybe. GQ...but not that." 

"Anything can do damage if you want it to," Lane retorts. "It's all about follow-through." 

"Time to cut back on The Sopranos, maybe?" 

"Yeah, maybe." Lane shrugs. The doorbell rings and Rory freezes in place, like a deer in headlights. "Gonna get that?" 

"He's early." 

"Well if he's trying to make a good impression on your mom, that's a good way to start." 

"He's undoing the impression she already has," Rory corrects off-handedly as she turns around in a full circle, looking for something. Lane hands her her purse and Rory nods in thanks. She stops then and takes a deep breath. "Okay." 

"Yep." 

"I should go get the door." 

"Yep." 

"Are you sure you can't come along tonight?" Rory pleads and Lane shakes her head no. 

"Mama is having bible study at the house at eight. You know I can't escape." She puts her hands on Rory's back and shoves her lightly toward the door. "Let's go." 

"I'm going..." Rory heads toward the foyer reluctantly, glancing up the stairs to her mother's bedroom and wondering why her mother hadn't come down. Lane grabs her jacket from a chair in the kitchen and follows Rory. 

"Hey," Tristan greets her, almost shyly. He peers around her, looking for Lorelai. Not seeing anyone he pulls Rory out onto the porch gently. 

"Hey," Rory replies. 

"Can I kiss you now before your mom comes down?" He asks and Rory simply nods before letting her lips touch his. They only have a moment to kiss before Lane opens the front door. Tristan jumps away from Rory like a criminal and turns toward Lane, sighing with relief when he sees it's not Lorelai. 

"Hey, Lane," Tristan greets her sheepishly and she smiles. 

"Hey, Tristan," she walks past the pair and down the steps. "Call me tonight," she mouths to Rory, who nods. Tristan takes her hand and they go inside together. 

"So, where's your mom?" Tristan asks her, looking around. 

"She's upstairs," Rory tells him. 

"These are for you," he hands her one of the two bouquets of flowers that he's holding. 

"You didn't have to do this Tristan...they're beautiful." 

"Well, you look beautiful." 

"I was actually kind of hoping I didn't," Rory remarks, laughing lightly. "You look really nice too." 

"I was going for upright young man nice. Does it work?" He inquires, smoothing his hair down. Rory gives him the once over again. 

"You look like a polite, courteous young gentleman, yes." 

"Does it make me look more...safe?" He adjusts his tie nervously and Rory smiles faintly at his nervousness. 

"Safe? Sure." 

"Really?" 

"Yes." Rory's blush undermines her words, however, letting Tristan know he's not anymore safe now than he was before. The sound of Lorelai's bedroom door opening and Luke's voice send both pairs of blue eyes toward the staircase expectantly. 

"Hello," Lorelai greets Tristan cordially. "When did you get here?" 

"Only about a minute ago, Lorelai," Tristan's voice almost cracks. "How are you tonight?" 

"I'm lovely, Tristan, how are you?" Lorelai bites back a smirk, an awful part in her delighting in watching him squirm. 

"I'm wonderful," he responds. "These are for you." 

"Flowers, how sweet," she takes them from him. "A little kiss-ass, but sweet." 

"Mom," Rory says warningly and Lorelai smiles. 

"I was just kidding! Thank you very much, Tristan." 

"You're welcome. Hello, Luke," Tristan nods as Luke comes down behind Lorelai. Even he is dressed nicely, dress shirt, tie and all. He looks very unamused. 

"Hello, Tristan," he replies gruffly, yanking on his tie. 

"It's good to see you again," Tristan states. 

"Yeah, same here," he waves him off, his mind occupied with other matters. "Lorelai, do I have to wear this?" 

"You can take it off the second we get out of the restaurant, Luke, but not until then. It's not a jeans and plaid shirt kind of establishment." 

"I don't see why I couldn't have just made dinner here like I originally planned." 

"Because you cook all day. We're going out." 

"We're going to Carbone's Ristorante," Rory explains to Tristan as she re-enters from setting her and her mother's flowers on the kitchen table. 

"Great, I love Italian," Tristan replies. 

"Who doesn't?" Lorelai asks. 

"I'm sure there's someone somewhere who doesn't," Luke says and Lorelai shakes her head no. 

"Naw, I think just about everyone likes some kind of Italian. It's impossible not to." Luke is about to disagree when Lorelai looks at her watch. "We should get going. Our reservations are for seven o'clock." 

"Should we meet you there?" Rory asks, hoping that she and Tristan would at least get a few minutes of alone time to talk. Lorelai raises an eyebrow at her daughter. 

"No, we can all fit in the jeep. It should be fine." 

"Okay." She picks up her jacket to put it on but Tristan takes it from her, holding it up and helping her put it on. Lorelai watches the scene before putting on her own jacket, noticing that Tristan's hair is considerably more tame than usual, groomed and styled very conservatively. He takes her daughter's hand and holds open the front door with the other so Lorelai and Luke can walk out first. 

"Man, he is trying _so_ hard," Lorelai whispers to Luke as they head toward the car. Luke gives her a warning look. "It's sweet, I'm not making fun," she assures him and he just rolls his eyes.

* * *

"So how did it go?" Lane questions, over the phone.

"It went horribly." Rory states, wincing. 

"Horribly? Oh no..." 

"It went horribly and it went wonderfully. I'm not sure which." 

"You're going to have to explain that one." 

_Lorelai turns back and looks at the pair in the back seat inquisitively, not being able to see both of them clearly in the side view mirror. Rory shifts in her seat, wishing that Luke hadn't offered to drive. Now Lorelai has complete ability to pay attention to every single thing going on. _

_"So, Tristan. You have a mighty nice car. How much does a Camaro run these days?" _

_"My parents gave it to me as a gift, I don't know exactly how much it costs," Tristan replies honestly. _

_"Insurance?" Lorelai asks. "Your parents take care of that too?" _

_"It's cheaper for me to be on their insurance than have my own at this point." _

_"True," Lorelai concedes. "What do your parents do for a living?" _

_"My father is a lawyer...corporate law. My mother was a doctor but she gave up practice when my older brother was born." _

_"You have a brother?" _

_"I didn't know your mom was a doctor," Rory says, and Tristan shrugs. _

_"She hasn't been working for so long, I don't really think to talk about it," he explains to her first, then addresses Lorelai. "My older brother, Elliott, is 25 and is in graduate school in England, at Oxford. He's studying for his doctorate in English." _

_"He wants to teach when he finishes, right?" Rory asks, trying to help him out a little, make her mother ease off. _

_"Yes, he's hoping to get a professorship at Dartmouth, actually. Much to my father's chagrin." _

_" Princeton man?" _

_"Yale man. But my mother went to Dartmouth so the blow is considerably lessened." Rory sneaks her hand into his and squeezes it gently, knowing that he absolutely hates talking about his family. _

_"You plan on going to Yale?" _

_"That's the tentative plan, yes. Study law, like my dad." _

_"Uh-huh," Lorelai nods, a look passing over her face that Tristan is sure can't be good. She opens her mouth to say something else but Luke thankfully interrupts. _

_"It's a left here?" He gestures in that direction. _

_"No, right," Lorelai's attention is diverted toward the road temporarily and Tristan lets out a breath of relief. Rory looks up at him, wishing that she could kiss him. He smiles at her lightly, thinking the same thing._

"Did the interrogation ever stop?" 

"It eased off a little during coffee and dessert," Rory tells Lane, who groans. 

"How did Tristan handle it?" 

"Amazingly well. I think it was what he expected." 

"So Lorelai was adequately impressed by him? Thinks he has the honor not to do the nasty with you?" 

"You make it sound so romantic..." 

"Was she?" 

"I think so. He paid for dinner." 

"Well, that ought to have won major points with Luke, at least." 

"Astoundingly, Luke seems to think that I'm trustworthy enough on my own." 

"So what was the horrible part? This all sounds like it went really well." 

"My mom invited Tristan to Friday night dinner." 

"Oh no." 

"I know." 

"But don't your grandparents like him? He's a DuGrey." 

"It doesn't matter. They think they like him but then they're going to think about my mom like they always do and freak out. This can't be good." 

"You're right." Lane sighs. "Anything I can do?" 

"Get me out of Friday night dinner?" 

"I could fake a near-death experience." 

"Could you?" 

"I doubt your grandma would believe it." 

"She might," Rory says hopefully, then sighs. "I guess I'll just have to cross my fingers and hope for the best." 

"Too bad I found out now, I could've prayed for you during bible study." 

"How was that?" 

"Excruciating as always. Though my mother did mention that she wants to invite Henry to our next one." 

"That's good...I think." 

"Good for me, bad for him. He has no idea what he's getting into if he says yes." 

"You should warn him." 

"I will. Oh great. Mama's calling me, I have to go. Call me tomorrow?" 

"Sure thing." 

"Bye, Rory," Lane hangs up quickly, doubtedly not supposed to have been on the phone late at night. Rory sets the phone down on her nightstand and picks up her book. It only takes a few minutes of reading to send her off to a deep sleep, her dreams filled with thoughts of Tristan.

* * *

Luke sits down next to Lorelai on the porch swing, wrapping his arm around her. His tie is off and his collar undone, and he looks much more comfortable. 

"I think tonight went pretty well," he says, looking to her for response. She sighs, playing with the hem of his shirt. "What, you don't think so?" 

"It did. He was very polite, very nice, barely touched Rory at all...it was great." She sighs again. 

"Then what's the problem?" 

"Oh, just that she's absolutely crazy about him. Absolutely nuts." Lorelai shakes her head, then laughs despite herself. "It's so weird to see her so...I mean, she's such a teenager around him." She laughs again, this time more fully. 

"I don't quite follow." 

"It's just I've always viewed Rory as this 17 year old going on 40. With Tristan she's 17 going on 18. Such a girl. Looking at him like he's the end all be all or something." 

"Weren't you freaking out about this same exact thing earlier?" 

"Yeah," she giggles, putting her hand on his leg. "Now I'm somewhat reassured and looking very much forward to seeing the look on my mother's face when Rory can't help herself from touching Tristan whenever she can. If Tristan didn't crack tonight, he'll crack then." 

"He's not going to crack at all, I don't think." 

"If he doesn't, then he has my blessing," Lorelai smiles. She snakes her hand through his. "As for you...you're coming on Friday, right?" 

"Am I? Oh...no." 

"If Tristan can do it, you can..." Lorelai says. "With him there, the attention will be away from us. It's the perfect opportunity." Luke eyes her suspiciously and she nods. "Trust me." 

"If you say so." 

"I do..." She leans toward him and kisses him gently, running her hands through his short brown hair. "It's weird when you're so clean-shaven," she murmurs, rubbing her hand on his cheek. 

"Weird in a good way?" 

"Yeah," Lorelai says and they kiss again. Luke pulls her closer, turning his body toward hers to kiss her more fully. "Have I ever told you how much I like doing this?" 

"I like it too, so I think we're set," Luke mumbles between kisses. Lorelai loses herself in him, forgetting about her worries over Rory for a few moments and just enjoying being with the man she loves. It felt wonderful to have him want her, so comforting to feel his embrace, so titillating that his kisses still sent shivers all the way up and down her spine. She moves even closer to him, almost into his lap, and the swing moves violently. They break apart, laughing. They're still laughing when an awkward cough comes from a few feet away. 

Lorelai looks up and her face falls, paling with shock. 

"Christopher?" 

_To be continued..._

* * *


	15. Altered States

_Chapter Fifteen: Altered States_

Christopher gazes at Lorelai with a faint look of hurt and confusion as she disentangles herself from Luke's clearly loving embrace. Luke shifts away slightly from her as well, feeling uncomfortable even though he knows he has every right not to be.

"Christopher, hi!" Lorelai, gathers her wits, stands up and walks down the steps to meet him on the lawn. She puts on a large smile and decides the best way to make things normal is to act like they already are. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't get my weekly phone call from Rory or you for the past two weeks, so I was worried something was up," Christopher explains, glancing up at the porch toward Luke, and not so discreetly either. Luke is now standing, watching the scene play out carefully, trying to get a read on the situation. Lorelai screws up her face, confused.

"You came all the way here just because we didn't give you a weekly phone call?" Lorelai asks, astounded.

"Two weekly phone calls. I was in New York on business. It didn't seem too out-of-this-world to just check and make sure things were okay," Christopher bends his knees slightly so he can look directly into Lorelai's eyes. "Are they?"

"Things are fine, Chris. We've just been busy," Lorelai turns and walks back up onto the porch. Luke moves toward her and Christopher, extending his hand toward Chris.

"Nice to see you again, Chris," Luke greets him with his usual gruff tone, and Christopher accepts his masculine handshake with a nod.

"You too...Luke," Chris pauses, searching for the name. "So, what exactly have you been busy with?"

"You could've just called my parents if you were really this worried," Lorelai points out before answering his question. She moves toward the front door and Luke opens it for her, going inside first and holding it open. "And we've been busy with a lot of things. The first of which being Tristan."

"Tristan?"

"Rory hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?"

"I should go," Luke bends over Lorelai's shoulder and whispers in her ear as she pauses in the foyer. Lorelai shakes her head, turning toward him.

"No, you don't have to go."

"You...have a lot to talk about," Luke replies and Lorelai makes a face at him.

"You don't want to be around while I fill Chris in on the Wonderful World of Rory?" Luke gives her a look that says he doesn't. She gives him a pleading puppy face in return.

"Chris, you hungry?" Luke looks at Chris, who is waiting for Lorelai to answer his original question.

"Famished, actually."

"There. I'll go make something for him to eat, Lorelai, and you tell him about the Ken doll." He kisses her on the cheek and walks to the kitchen, leaving Lorelai and Christopher alone.

"You really should call before just showing up like this all the time," Lorelai tells him as she walks past him into the living room. Christopher rolls his eyes.

"I wouldn't be here if the telephone seemed to be working for us," he points out. Lorelai plops down onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh and raises her eyes to him. "Why, you want a warning so you can hide the boyfriend from me?"

"Ha! I couldn't hide Luke if I tried, with all that plaid?" Lorelai jokes. "And why do you look so bent out of shape? It's not like I haven't told you that I was dating Luke."

"I know that," Chris shrugs, sitting down and changing the subject. "So who is Tristan?"

"Rory's new boyfriend."

"Excuse me?" Christopher is shocked. "What about Dean?"

"Dean has been replaced by Tristan. It's very recent, don't fatootz about it," Lorelai tries to smooth it over. Judging from the look on Chris' face, it will take a lot more than that.

"I can't believe I haven't heard about this."

"I told you about this kid, Chris. He's the one who got her the newspaper. And I know Rory definitely would've told you about that even if I hadn't."

"I just had no idea that Dean and Rory were on the rocks. She's dating this Tristan kid now?"

"Tristan DuGrey," Lorelai emphasizes the last name.

"DuGrey?"

"Yes, DuGrey."

"Well Richard and Emily must be enthused."

"Jumping for joy," Lorelai replies, nodding. "She really likes him, though. A lot."

"Well...that's a good thing, right?" Chris isn't too sure.

"Not likes him in a 1950's gee-golly way, Chris."

"I didn't think it was."

"You don't understand. This isn't like Dean. This is like you and me."

"You're not serious."

"She's all over him. It hasn't been a good few weeks with us," Lorelai frowns and Chris frowns deeper.

"You couldn't have found a minute to call and tell me this? Rory's gone hormonal over some guy and I'm in the dark about it? That's not fair, Lorelai." Lorelai is silent, biting back what she wants to say because she knows it will only result in trouble.

"I'm sorry, Chris. Everything's just been topsy-turvy around here lately and I haven't been thinking straight. I should've called and told you what was going on. It just didn't occur to me."

"It didn't occur to you," Chris repeats, unamused. "That hurts."

"Well, Chris, what can I say? When I'm having trouble, you're not the first person on my list to call. That's how it is."

"I'm Rory's father, that should not be how it is."

"Well whose fault is that? Cause it's not mine." Lorelai retorts snippily, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Chris sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I didn't come here to fight, Lorelai."

"Could've fooled me."

"I don't want to rehash all this stuff. We've been through it too many times already. I don't think it's too much to ask to just be kept in the loop."

"Want me to call you if she gets a papercut?"

"Someday your sarcasm will really hurt someone, Lorelai," Chris replies, glaring at her. "You know what I mean here." Lorelai relents, loosening her arms.

"I know. And I appreciate you coming down here to check on us and all, I do. But you've got to understand that I'm used to do doing this on my own."

"That's what I've been told."

"Food is ready," Luke calls from the kitchen, interrupting their conversation. Chris stands slowly, offering Lorelai his hand and pulling her up off the couch.

"Just because you can do it on your own doesn't mean you have to. You've already more than proven yourself self-reliant. You can stop now." He follows Lorelai in to the kitchen, not having to look at her face to know she's rolling her eyes at him. Luke pulls out a kitchen chair for Lorelai and gestures to the one across from her. Christopher sits down and looks at the plate full of food in front of him. "Since when do you keep more than pop tarts and frozen pizza in the house?"

"That's my doing," Luke informs him. "If she had her way, it would just be coffee and instant meals. She had shoes in the stove."

"It was as good a place as any to store them," Lorelai retorts, smiling. "Now they're just all over my floor. You trip over them one more time and I'm sure you'll be begging for them to be back in the stove."

Rory's bedroom door opens and a slightly dazed and bed-mussed Rory stumbles into the kitchen light. Luke takes the mug of coffee that he was pouring for Lorelai and brings it over to Rory instead.

"We wake you up, Rory?"

"No," she mumbles, lying. "I was already awake. I heard cooking noises and smelled cooking smells and I thought maybe I was having a dream or had been abducted by aliens."

"Julia Child aliens?" Lorelai asks and Luke snorts.

"Naked Chef aliens," Rory corrects.

"Ah...good choice," Lorelai responds. Rory smiles at Luke graciously as she sips the coffee and then looks past her mom, noticing her father.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" She can't keep the surprise off her face. After a moment in which his presence actually registers in her brain, she crosses the kitchen and throws her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. "Is everything all right?"

"It is now," he tells her, squeezing her lovingly. "I came up here to ask you guys the same thing. You forget how to use the phone there, little lady?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rory is genuinely apologetic. "You didn't come all the way up here just because I forgot to call this week, did you?"

"Two weeks. And your mom didn't call either."

"Mom, you too?"

"My mind was elsewhere, I'm sorry," She throws up her hands in her own defense and stands up, going to get a replacement cup of coffee for the one Luke had given Rory. He's already ahead of her, and places one into her hands before she takes two steps. Nevertheless, she remains standing next to him.

"What's this I hear about a new boyfriend?" Chris inquires, raising an eyebrow at Rory. She pulls herself from his embrace, shooting her mother a look.

"You couldn't have at least waited until morning?"

"You're the one who got out of bed, dear...you were safe," Lorelai tells her.

"You can fill me in tomorrow over breakfast if you want," Chris suggests. "You and I could go out, do a little talking. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"Sounds nice," Rory nods with a small smile. She picks up his fork and steals a bite of his food. "That will give Luke a morning off from cooking for me."

"He'll still cook for me, dearie, don't go giving him any mutinous ideas," Lorelai interjects. Luke wraps an arm around her shoulders and gives her a look.

"Rory is a growing girl and I have to work fast to undo the damage you've done by injecting her with coffee since the age of 2. You've probably stunted her growth. The damage is already done with you," Luke points out.

"You saying I'm damaged?"

"In many, many ways," Luke retorts with a smirk and Lorelai pretends to be offended.

"Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. Now I better get going," he nods to Christopher and makes toward the door, ruffling Rory's hair on the way past. "G'night, Rory. Good to see ya, Chris." Lorelai scurries after him, following him out onto the porch. Seconds later she sticks her head back into the kitchen.

"I'm going to walk Luke home," She says. "You two can have some time to talk amongst yourselves."

"That's what we're doing tomorrow morning," Rory points out, eager to give her mom a hard time.

"Well, you can pre-chat. That way you'll be all warmed up for tomorrow."

"If you're gone more than twenty minutes I'll assume you're doing something wrong and come after you," Rory remarks and Lorelai comes very close to glaring at her.

"You should go back to bed," she states and then walks out the door. Christopher gives Rory a questioning look.

"What was that about?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow," she steps toward her bedroom in the moment of silence that follows, not wanting to have to explain Tristan to her father tonight.

"Rory?" His voice stops her.

"Yes?" She turns back meekly, expecting the Inquisition.

"Your mom and Luke...are they serious?"

Rory can tell from the tone of his voice and the look on his face that she couldn't pass this off with a glib remark or quip. She takes a step back toward him with a small nod.

"Yeah, they're pretty serious."

Chris puts his napkin over his plate, his food barely touched.

"That's what I thought." He doesn't bother to hide his sigh and Rory falls quiet again, not knowing what to say to him.

"I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yep, in the morning, kiddo."

Christopher's eyes follow Rory until she disappears into her bedroom, and then linger on her closed door. He sighs deeply once more, glancing around the now empty kitchen. He had never felt like a stranger in this house before. It had always seemed like home to him, no matter how long he stayed away. And now, suddenly...he didn't belong.

* * *

"Hey..." Tristan's lips graze her ear as he leans in toward her. The smell of his cologne, sexy and comforting all at once, washes over her and sends a shiver up her spine. She breathes in deeply and then turns around to face him, letting her envelope her in his arms.

"Hi," she smiles, eagerly touching her lips to his.

"Your bus is early today," he murmurs as they pull away, glancing back toward the bus from which Rory had just disembarked. She nods.

"We've got a speed demon for a bus driver, that's why. You're lucky I'm still in one piece, Mr."

"Maybe I should give you a ride home today. It'd be safer."

"Nice excuse," Rory replies, clasping his hand in hers and tugging him toward the school. He shakes his head no, pulling her back toward him and kissing her deeply.

"Can't we just stay out here for awhile? I can't kiss you the way I want to in the hallway," he smirks and Rory shoots him a sly look.

"I'm supposed to meet Paris before class to go over the notes for English, you know that."

"You can look at my notes..."

"You take notes?" Rory laughs. "Is that what you call those random things you write down whenever the whim strikes you?"

"Hey, I take good notes. You're making assumptions."

"All right then, I'll look at them," Rory states and Tristan's smirk breaks into a grin. "That's what I thought."

"You can't get the notes during lunch?" Tristan pleads, kissing the delicate spot where her jawline meets her neck. Rory's eyes flutter closed involuntarily and she gives into him for a moment. Gaining some willpower, she pushes him away slightly, trying to look stern.

"Really, I have to go inside," she tells him, but lets him kiss her again anyway. A student driving into the parking lot honks his horn at them and Rory pushes Tristan away once more, this time for good. "I'm going now!" She turns on her heel and heads toward the school. After a moment of disappointment Tristan dashes to catch up with her, grabbing her hand in his.

"What are you doing today after school?"

"Meeting Lane for coffee and then eating dinner with my dad and my mom."

"Your dad?" Tristan questions. Rory nods.

"Yep. Showed up last night, freaking out cause we hadn't called him in two weeks."

"Wow."

"Yeah, it was odd. But I guess he's going to stay for a few days, he doesn't have to be back at work until Monday or something."

"Can I meet him?" Rory stops in her tracks, looking at Tristan with surprise.

"You want to meet my dad?"

"Why are you so surprised?" Tristan asks. "I mean, I've never even seen him before..."

"He's not around that much."

"I know," he says as he opens the school door for her. "Which is why I think I should take the opportunity while I have it."

"Okay, but not tonight."

"Cause of dinner with your grandparents?"

"My grandparents are out of town for the weekend."

"Oh."

"I think my dad just wants to be with me and mom, alone."

"What about Luke?" Rory pauses at this question, a look passing over her face that tells Tristan something isn't quite right. "Your dad knows about Luke, right?"

"That's the problem." They stop in front of her locker and Rory looks up at him, worry creasing her brow. "I don't think he thought anything of it when my mom told him about dating Luke. He probably thought it'd be a passing thing like all the other guys before."

"And now he realizes it's not, huh?" Tristan leans against the lockers, sighing. He rubs his thumb across his eyebrow and then puts his hand on Rory's shoulder. "If it's got you worried already, I take it this is going to be a problem?"

"I just...I think they've both always thought that someday...I mean I thought that too. There'd be a time when it'd be right for them, eventually. But now, my mom's got Luke and she doesn't think that that's true."

"Do you?"

"Not anymore." They're both quiet for a moment. "My dad's going to be crushed."

"Losing a Gilmore would suck," Tristan agrees, trying to bring at least a little smile back onto Rory's face. "I'd be shattered into a million pieces if you were with some other guy." He kisses her gently and finally the corners of her mouth tug upwards into a hint of a smile.

"That'd never happen."

"You being with someone else?"

"You being so upset. You'd probably hook up with the first thing you saw with breasts and be over it by lunch," Rory teases. Tristan scowls at her.

"You really break my heart, you know that?"

"I was just kidding. I know you're serious," Rory lifts her hand to turn the combination on her locker but Tristan covers her hand with his. Rory's insides jump as he presses close, his body hot against hers.

"Good, because I'm very serious," Tristan tells her, tilting her chin upwards as she turns around. He presses even closer and Rory willingly lets him do so.

"Very serious?" She repeats, an overdramatic expression of sterness on her face. Tristan matches her look as he dips his head downward.

"_Very_ serious," he responds. Rory circles her arms around his neck and accepts him into her mouth, her fingers twisting through his soft blonde hair. Someone coughs next to them, presumably Mary, for it is her locker they are now up against, but Tristan seems to give her no notice, and for once Rory doesn't care that much either.

"You know, I _will_ get the fire extinguisher and then you'll be sorry," Paris' voice cuts in and Rory pulls herself away from Tristan, breathless. Clinging to each other, they turn toward Paris, who is standing with Mary, and give them both embarassed smiles.

"Sorry," Rory murmurs and she and Tristan shift down to her locker. Mary opens up her locker, shooting Rory an amused look. "Sorry!" Rory half-exclaims to her, blushing.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Mary winks. "Though I think the two of you really need to get a room." Rory blushes even more deeply and despite himself, Tristan can feel his own cheeks get warm. Mary grabs her books and shuts her locker, heading off toward class. Paris takes her place.

"As nice as it is that you two are getting along so famously now, I believe that Rory and I have some business to attend to." Tristan opens up Rory's locker for her and then steps aside. Paris watches Tristan as he watches Rory, finding it hard to believe that this was the same Tristan she had always known.

"All right, I'll see you two ladies in a bit," Tristan excuses himself as Rory finishes gathering her things. He gives her a quick departure kiss and heads toward his own locker. Paris' eyes shift to Rory, who can immediately feel the judgement coming.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just I never pictured you as the type to be doing a live performance of 9 1/2 Weeks against your locker, that's all. Especially considering we used to make fun of Summer and Tristan doing the exact same thing last year."

"It was not 9 1/2 Weeks and we were only kissing," Rory defends herself.

"Sure."

"What? I mean, he's my boyfriend, are we not allowed to kiss?"

"Well actually, PDA's are banned in school, so, in reality, you're not," Paris points out. "But that wasn't really what I was getting at."

"What exactly were you getting at?" Rory inquires.

"Just that you're acting differently, that's all," Paris shrugs, innocently. "It wasn't a judgement, just an observation."

"Paris, with you, everything is a judgement," Rory states as they enter the library.

"I don't have time to argue the point. We have ten minutes before first period. Let's make them count." She sits down and opens up her bag, pulling out her thick English binder. Rory sighs and plops down across the table, knowing it was no use to pursue the topic any further.

* * *

Luke fidgets with the bedspread as he sits, waiting for Lorelai to finish primping for dinner. She makes a face at her reflection in the mirror, pursing her lips once to check her lipstick and liner, and then turns to him.

"How do I look?"

"Can't you wear something else?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't you have something...more...I don't know...frumpy?" He stumbles while searching for the correct word, but his pleading eyes tell Lorelai more than words could. She puts her hands on her hips and gazes at him, slightly amused.

"You're worried about Christopher, aren't you?"

"I'm not worried about anything," Luke replies.

"Then you want me to dress like an uptight school marm...just because?"

The room is silent for a moment and Lorelai waits expectantly.

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little worried," Luke gets up and crosses to the door, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. "It's not like it's so out-there to be worried."

"Luke..." Lorelai walks after him, putting her hands on his shoulders comfortingly and turning him around gently. "Luke, there's nothing for you to be concerned about, really. It's just dinner."

"Lorelai, he's Rory father. I know what you've always thought about the two of you and..."

"What have I always thought?" Lorelai asks quizzically.

"You know...that the two of you would eventually...be together..." Luke mumbles, frowning. He tries to pull away from Lorelai but she doesn't let him, lacing her fingers behind his neck and holding him closer.

"Yes, Luke, I thought that. Once upon a time," she states, smiling faintly. "But now...now I have you! And I don't want that to change for anything. Ever."

"But-"

"Chris is Rory's dad. So he'll always be around. If you want to get jealous over his claim to her, go ahead. Rory's worth getting jealous over. But me?" She smiles widely now, putting her hand on Luke's unshaven cheek. "I'm yours. 100 yours. So you better hope you never get sick of me."

"I wasn't jealous..." Luke responds and Lorelai laughs, patting her hand against his broad chest.

"Oh, quit being macho and just go with it. You're cute when you're jealous."

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, a grin playing at the edges of his lips.

"Yeah," Lorelai replies, letting him bring her close for a sweet kiss. Small, short kisses act as a prelude to longer, deeper ones, and minutes later Lorelai is wrapped tightly in Luke's embrace, completely lost to the rest of the world.

"Mom! Dad's here!" Rory's voice calls from downstairs, bright and chipper. Lorelai groans as she pulls herself regretfully away from Luke, rolling her eyes.

"Damn, just when it was getting good," she mumbles, bending down to pick up her high heeled shoes from the floor. She turns back to Luke and pokes him in the chest as she backs out her bedroom door into the hallway. "You better be around tonight so we can finish that."

"Well I conveniently have some things I want to fix in the kitchen tonight so that can be arranged."

"Oo, it's a two-for-one night, huh? What are you fixing in the kitchen?"

"I thought I'd tackle fixing the settings on the toaster first and then repair the light in the stove, and then move on from there."

"You're a regular Bob Vila. Yet so much hotter," Lorelai smirks at him as they trod downstairs. "You're going to fix stuff I never even knew was broken."

"Yeah, Luke? One of the shelves in my bookcase is about to cave...could you maybe take a look at it sometime and see if it can be saved?" Rory chimes in as the pair steps down into the living room.

"I'll take a look. It probably just needs a little reinforcing," he nods, shrugging.

"That way she can pile even more books onto it, right, Ror?" Chris nudges her and she smiles. "We really should just get you another bookcase."

"Ah, hell, she can just have mine, I don't use it!" Lorelai laughs, grabbing her cardigan from the arm of the couch. "Are we all set to go?"

"All set."

"I feel lucky to be escorting such lovely ladies out this evening," Chris states, looking between the two of them as they move to the foyer.

"Well that's cause you are lucky," Lorelai says, turning quickly to give Luke a kiss good-bye. "I'll see you later."

"Bye Luke!" Rory chirps as her father holds the door open. Luke doesn't miss the hand that Chris sets on Lorelai's lower back to guide her out the door.

"Bye," Chris nods to Luke, who gives him a stern nod back. The door closes and Luke is left to wait for their return.

* * *

"So, Ror, why couldn't Tristan join us this evening?" Chris asks as the waiter sets to pouring a second round of wine.

"Oh...I thought that tonight was just the three of us. He actually wanted to come and I told him no..." Rory winces.

"Oh, you could've invited him if you had wanted to. I didn't mean that tonight was exclusive," Chris responds. "I want to meet this guy, with all you told me about him this morning."

"Yeah, you two have a nice breakfast this morning?"

"It was nice," Rory replies. "Though Al's is no Luke's. Tristan does want to meet you, though, Dad, he said so. Maybe later this weekend we could do something?"

"Sure, that sounds good. I can take you two kids out. I'm sure Tristan would like a break from paying for your coffee," Chris winks. Lorelai rolls her eyes slightly.

"They haven't actually done much of the dating, actually, so I doubt Tristan's quite broke yet," Lorelai states and Rory shoots her a look. Lorelai paints on a fake grin and Rory turns back to her father.

"I also still need to see a copy of this paper I've heard so much about."

"Oh, yeah, I'll get you out all the editions when we get home," Rory nods. "It's not anything much, really, you might be disappointed."

"Never. I'm sure it's fantastic. You've always been way too modest."

"It is fantastic," Lorelai agrees and Rory blushes slightly.

"And you, Lorelai, how is work going for you?" Chris asks.

"Oh, just the same old, same old. Been thinking about taking some of my vacation time, actually."

"Really?"

"Really?" Rory echoes her father.

"Yeah, maybe just a week or so. I haven't had a vacation in a long time."

"Are you and Luke going to go away?" Rory asks and Chris' face shows his hurt before he can mask it.

"I was thinking about it. But I don't know if now would really be the best time to leave town," she tells her daughter pointedly.

"So you and Luke..." Chris starts, then seems to change his mind about what to say. "You two seem to be doing well."

"That we are," Lorelai smiles earnestly, picking up her glass of wine. "I never would've guessed it but that big grunting hunk of plaid is practically perfect."

"Like Mary Poppins," Chris quips, somewhat sarcastically.

"If Mary Poppins were a man," Rory adds.

"Bad imagery," Lorelai shudders, and sets down her glass.

"It's interesting, cause Rory said the same thing about Tristan," Chris turns the conversation back to Rory again. She shirks back in her seat, not really wanting her father to relay every word of their conversation.

"She called him Mary Poppins?"

"No, practically perfect," Chris chuckles. Lorelai throws a glance at her daughter.

"Oh, she did...well, he is quite...something," Lorelai states, not sure what to say. "Say, Ror, how's school going, by the way? You haven't said much."

"We haven't been talking much," Rory replies honestly and Lorelai is a bit taken aback. "But it's fine. Paris is being nicer to me now that I'm with Tristan so we're helping each other out a lot, with notes and stuff."

"Wait, she's being nicer?" Christopher asks. "I thought the whole reason she was being mean to you was because of Tristan."

"It seems she really just wants him to be happy, and thinks that now he's the happiest he's ever been so...yeah," Rory shrugs. "It works out well." She pauses, not sure what else to say. "But what about you, Dad? You haven't said a word about yourself all night."

"Yeah, Chris, how's work? And how's the current girl?"

"Work is...work. Business is going well, but you know me, a little restless. But we're starting up with a new client next week so things ought to get a little more interesting. And as for the current girl...there isn't one. Been taking some time off from the whole dating thing."

"Wow, that's a first," Lorelai jokes. "You've already dated everyone in the office?"

"No, that's not it," Chris grins, a tinge of bitterness in the smile. "I'm just not in in the mood to deal with all of that anymore." He looks at Lorelai in a way that makes her immediately uncomfortable, in a way that doesn't escape Rory's attention. She glances between her parents and Lorelai fidgets nervously with the napkin in her lap. Chris looks away, sighing.

"I have to use the ladies room, I'll be right back," Rory stands, excusing herself before her mother can protest. Lorelai looks at Chris and gives him a tight and nervous smile. More silence.

"This is weird, Chris."

"What is?"

"Sitting here, racking my brain for something to say. I've never had to do that with you. We've never not been able to talk before."

"I know."

"So, then, I'll stop pretending not to notice the strange vibe that's been in the air since you've gotten here," Lorelai states, gesturing between them. "You want to tell me what's going on, Chris?"

"Nothing's going on," Chris responds, picking his napkin up off of his lap and setting it on the table.

"That's a lie," Lorelai states knowingly. Christopher shrugs, giving into her since he knows better than to resist.

"Everything just feels off to me."

"Off? In what way?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know, or you don't know if you should say it?"

"Lor..."

"Chris."

"It's strange to see you with him, all right?"

"Him? You mean Luke."

"Yes, Luke. I guess I wasn't expecting it," he sighs, glancing up at her. Lorelai frowns.

"I've kept you well-informed as to what's been going on here, Chris, you can't pull this."

"Pull what?"

"The "now she's with someone else so I want her" routine. You can't do it."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I don't know," He states. "I...When I see how you look at him it makes me want to tear my heart out." Silence falls between them as Lorelai registers what he has said. "I didn't...I didn't think that you would wait around for me forever, Lor, I didn't. I've been trying to get my act together, to get my life in order...I'm almost there. And suddenly you're...gone."

"Wow...Chris..." Lorelai pushes her chair back from the table, feeling claustrophobic. "That's...you can't make me feel guilty for moving on. That's not fair."

"I'm not trying to make you feel anything."

"Because you're right. I couldn't wait around for you forever. I waited around for 16 years. I think that was more than long enough."

"And it was," Chris sighs. "And I regret that everyday, that I couldn't be who you needed me to be. But I am that person now. And I'm asking for another chance."

"Wait, what? You're asking for what?"

"Lor..."

"I need some air," Lorelai sets her napkin on the table and stands, walking out of the restaurant. Chris follows her, upset.

"Lorelai!" He calls after her, busting out the front door of the restaurant and glancing up and down the street for her familiar form. She is only a few meters away, leaning against a streetlamp. "Lorelai..."

"Chris, you can't do this. You can't waltz back in here and expect me to simply fall at your feet. It doesn't work that way."

"I know."

"This isn't high school anymore."

"I know that."

Lorelai pauses, running her hand through her hair. She is frazzled and upset, near tears.

"Luke was worried about this. And I told him not to. Boy was I wrong."

"Lorelai..." Chris steps toward her, wanting to take her in his arms and comfort her. She pushes him away before he even touches her.

"Don't, Chris. We should go back inside, Rory's going to wonder where we are." Without another word, Lorelai turns and heads back, leaving Chris behind.

* * *

Rory walks toward the ladies room, but stops well before it. She digs a quarter out of the change pocket of her purse and picks up the pay phone. Sliding the quarter in, she dials the number without thinking.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you're home. I didn't know if you would be."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's Friday. You have a life."

"I thought I'd be a loser tonight and just sit around waiting in case you called. I'm glad you did."

"Bored out of your mind?"

"Yep," Tristan laughs. "I've watched Field of Dreams twice already."

"Why?"

"They played in twice in a row and I just didn't feel like changing the channel."

"You're so lazy!"

"Well my thoughts kept going elsewhere anyway," he replies, his voice dipping lower. "I can't concentrate on a movie."

"Why?" Rory asks innocently, biting her lip.

"Don't tease, Ror," Tristan replies, chuckling.

"You're the one teasing," Rory retorts. "Bringing up your thoughts and then not divulging the details."

"Why don't you come over and I can show you?" Tristan suggests. Rory laughs lightly.

"Well, you know,I would, but I'm in the middle of dinner."

"You're still at dinner?"

"We left later than we thought."

"How's it going?"

"Strained."

"Sorry."

"I think my dad's just a little upset about Luke and he's trying to cover it up."

"Not successfully?"

"It's very awkward," Rory sighs, glancing toward the dining room. She can't see their table from here. "But he does want to meet you before he goes back."

"Your mom didn't scare him away?"

"I think she just piqued his interest more."

"So when do you want to do it?" He asks, then they both pause. "Have me meet him, I mean."

"I was thinking tomorrow night. He'll probably leave Sunday night so..."

"That works by me. My parents are having an awful dinner party here so any excuse to get out, I will gladly take."

"Excellent. I think my time's almost up here - I'm on a pay phone - so I'll call you tomorrow and we can work it out?"

"Yep."

"Kay."

"I'll talk to you later, then."

"All right."

"Good night, I love you."

"Bye, love you too," Rory says as she hangs up. The phone clicks into the receiver and she stops dead, staring at it. She hadn't even heard her own words slip out, they hadn't registered. They just went immediately, naturally. She's tempted to borrow a quarter from someone, pick up the phone and call him back, wanting to double check if she'd heard him and herself right. She picks up the phone and sets it back down, reconsidering.

With a faint smile, she goes back to join her mother and her father.

* * *

"You what?" Lane almost spills her coffee, her hands immediately slamming down into the table in shock. A few people look toward their table with interest and Rory gives Lane a warning look. She shirks back sheepishly. "Sorry. You what?" She asks more quietly. "How could you not have told me this?"

"Well, we haven't had much time alone to talk lately, between your mom and my mom," Rory explains. "I couldn't just blurt it out." Rory glances around, still feeling eyes on her. "Let's walk and talk." She gestures toward the counter and they pick up their large mugs. "Can we make these to go?" She asks Luke, who nods.

"Sure thing." He skillfully transfers the coffee to paper cups and lids them, sliding them back across the counter to the pair with a smile.

"Thanks, Luke," Rory tells him. "I'll see you later?"

"Later, kiddo," he makes a small gesture of good-bye as they head for the door. Lane grins at Rory as they step out into the bright afternoon sunlight.

"Since when has Luke started calling you kiddo?"

"Occasionally it just slips out," Rory replies, smiling herself. "I don't mind it."

"It's cute."

"Don't tell Luke that, he'll die," She warns Lane and takes a sip of her coffee. "Oo, oh. I got yours." She hands it to her quickly and then takes a sip of her own coffee, desperate. "I don't know how you can stand all that stuff in it."

"I don't know how you do without."

"All it does is strip away the coffee-ness of the coffee, Lane. You have to get it full blast."

"If you say so," Lane laughs. They cross the street and after checking around herself to make sure no one important is around, Lane turns to Rory with a determined look. "So, divulge details here. I'm totally left in the dark about this stuff."

"Well you know that night that I went to his house?"

"Rory, everyone knows about that night. Your mom called half the town."

"Right." She pauses and Lane reads into it.

"I thought you said nothing happened. I mean, I assumed you meant nothing as in nothing besides kissing but now I'm thinking that when you said nothing happened you really meant something did that you just didn't want to tell your mom about. Oh my god. You didn't, did you?"

"Lane, no!" Rory exclaims. "I would've told you that right away. After I told my mom, even though she'd lock me up forever afterward."

"So what did happen?"

"Um..." Rory takes Lane's hand and hurries to the nearest place to sit, that being one of the park's benches. "Well..."

"Rory...!" Lane is dying in anticipation. Rory leans forward and whispers something into Lane's ear and her mouth widens in surprise. "He did what? Rory!" She draws back and looks at the best friend, agape. "Oh my god!"

"I don't know...I mean, we were kissing by the side of the pool, in the chair, and then we were more than kissing, and...then..." Rory makes a face, not wanting to fill in the last blank out loud.

"I can't believe this. How was it...?" Lane raises her eyebrows suggestively.

"Lane...!" Rory blushes deeply.

"What?" Lane asks innocently.

"I don't know. God, I feel so wrong talking about this. It doesn't seem like it's something to be talked about...but I had to tell someone! I mean...I don't know what's going on with me, Lane."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't stop thinking about sex. It used to cross my mind every once in awhile with Dean, but it was a passing thing. With Tristan...I'm in class and I'm thinking about it, on the bus, I'm thinking about it...at dinner, at the inn, even when I'm with my grandparents I'm thinking about it. I can't stop! I can't even look at him without wanting to. It's so overwhelming. It seems so strange."

"How is it strange?"

"It just is, I don't know."

"Isn't it normal? I've only just really started dating Henry and I think about it. It's not like I'm anywhere near actually _doing_ anything, but I think about it. Everyone does."

"Except I'm not just thinking anymore. I might want to actually do this, Lane." Rory states.

"You might want to?"

"I do."

"You do."

"Tristan and I haven't really had a serious talk about it yet, but I really think I do."

"Oh my god, you do!" Lane exclaims, the concept finally hitting her. "Oh my god. Are you going to tell him?"

"I haven't thought it out that far yet," Rory admits. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the fact of it. I don't know how I'm going to tell my mother."

"You're going to tell Lorelai? She'll never let you see Tristan again!"

"And if I don't tell her? She'll find out. She'll know. And then it will be even worse. She'll be crushed that I didn't tell her."

"This has disaster written all over it," Lane shakes her head, not so sure that Rory is making the best decision. "Your mom is cool, Rory, but we'd both agree that the past week has shown she's not _that_ cool."

"I know. But it's a risk I have to take. We tell each other everything. She'll be so hurt if she ever knew I was keeping something so huge from her, and she'd end up distrusting me even more," Rory explains rationally. They are both quiet. Rory plays with the edge of her shirt, contemplating something. "Last night on the phone, I said I loved him."

"Rory! Is there anything _else_ you are holding back?"

"It just came out! He said 'goodbye, I love you,' like the most natural thing in the world, and I said, 'bye, love you too.' Just like that. I didn't even realize it until after I hung up."

"Are you really in love with him?"

"I'm feeling so many things, I can't tell them all apart. You're just supposed to know, right?"

"Supposedly."

"And I feel that way. I feel like, god, I just _love_ him, like, whenever I think about him, I just feel it...but then I think about the fact that I thought I loved Dean, and this doesn't feel like that did, and...I don't know. Is this making any sense?"

"Kind of."

"I'm just so...everywhere right now."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Lane inquires, not knowing where to take the conversation from here.

"Actually...I do need you to do me a favor," Rory states, looking instantly apologetic.

"What?" Lane asks, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I need you to go into the market for me and make sure that Dean isn't there. Or Miss Patty."

"Why?" Lane asks, confused not about the Dean requirement, but the Miss Patty.

"Because I feel like I should be prepared. In case something happens," Rory explains. "But I would really prefer not to have it advertised over town. And I would really, really, prefer to have Dean not know about it."

"Shouldn't Tristan be the one to take care of protection? It'd be so easy for him to do this in Hartford. Away from this town. Far, far, away from this town."

"Lane, it's not fair for that responsibility to be just his. It's just as much my duty to be prepared as it is his. And that's why I was asking you to check for me. Would you please?" Rory pleads.

"Why can't _you_ buy them in Hartford?"

"When? When I go there on Fridays with my _mother_ for dinner? Or maybe I can ditch class and go to the pharmacy to buy them then? I can't, Lane."

"Can't someone else get them for you?"

"I thought about asking Louise or Madeleine..." Rory starts, then sighs. "But they'd tell everyone. And I don't really want my life to be up for public debate in the lunch line."

"What about Mary?"

"Lane!" Rory exclaims, frustrated, then calms down. "I just think that this is an important thing to do by yourself. And this is the only way to do it. I just figured I'd have you take a look first so no one has to get upset about this. Is that so wrong?" Lane waffles slightly, then gives in.

"Okay. But then I'll have to go. My mom sees or hears about me even being five feet near the condom section and I'll be locked up for a year. Or two. Or three."

"Got it," Rory nods. They head over to the market, Lane looking far more nervous about this than Rory. Lane disappears inside while Rory waits outside, scanning up and down the street somewhat anxiously.

"It's clear. Apparently Miss Patty and Taylor are out to lunch down at Al's. Dean isn't anywhere in the store," Lane informs Rory, relieved, as she comes back out onto the street five minutes later. "I did a thorough sweep."

"Excellent. Thank you, Lane. I owe you big time."

"Do you need me for anything else? Cause I'm supposed to be home in fifteen minutes for dinner. But I can be a little late if you want me to stay."

"No, go. You've done more than enough," Rory assures her. "Thank you so much."

"Call me later," Lane tells her. Rory waves good-bye and enters Doose's market. The familiar sights and sounds hit her all at once, her eyes darting around the small store in an extra effort to make sure Lane was completely right. Trying to seem non-chalant, she picks up a shopping basket and walks down the first aisle. After putting a bag of chocolate chips, a stick of deodorant, and a tube of toothpaste (all of which they really did need) into her basket, she finds herself in front of the birth control section. Her eyes widen, never having realized the amount of choices there were to be made for one simple purchase. Trying quickly to remember if they had gone over any of this in health education, she reaches out and takes a package off the rack and slips it in with her other goods.

A slight sigh of relief escapes her.

Next came the task of selecting the correct cashier. The politics of Stars Hollow being very complicated, it was important to find just the right person. One who would not be tempted to tell Miss Patty that Lorelai Gilmore's girl was apparently having sex with someone. One who wouldn't feel obligated to make sure that her mother knew what her daughter was up to right away. One who surely wouldn't mention it to Luke. She begins the process with lane one.

Kirk.

Definitely not.

Beth?

Maybe. But she was in classes with Dean. She might let something slip. One could never be too careful.

Mrs. Johnson.

Would undoubtedly tell Miss Patty at the next town meeting. Besides, Rory would feel strange having a 68 year old widow who hosted quilting circles in her family room check her out for condoms.

Marcia.

Yes. That's the ticket. Doesn't talk to Miss Patty after the Harold snafu a few years ago. Secretly detests Taylor for not making her assistant manager. Rory knows Dean is on merely polite terms with her, which meant she wouldn't tell him to hurt him out of resentment, but wouldn't feel obligated to tell him because she cared about his feelings. She only says hello to her mother and Luke never comes into the store during the late-afternoon shifts when she works. Perfect.

Jubuliant over her fine choice, Rory joins the line for her cash register. Marcia rings up her purchases quickly, barely stopping to look at them. Rory pays and heads out of the market, thanking her lucky stars for how easily that went. She walks out the door and turns to go toward home, and crashes right into someone.

Her groceries spill out across the sidewalk as she tumbles backwards to the ground.

"God, Rory! I'm sorry!" Dean exclaims despite himself, still programmed to worry for her. He bends down immediately to help her up but she is hurriedly trying to pick up her items from the sidewalk.

She doesn't see them.

Where'd they go?

Shit.

Dean picks up her toothpaste for her, spotting another small black box sitting on the pavement a few feet away. He bends to get it but Rory practically dives toward it, covering it with her hand.

"It's okay. I wasn't looking where I was going," Rory replies, standing up. The fact she slips the black package into her pocket doesn't escape Dean's attention. She straightens her clothes and hair out, very flustered. Had he seen what she had bought? She hopes her flushed face doesn't betray her. "So. Um...hey."

"Hey," Dean responds, looking away from her awkwardly.

"Um...how've you...I mean, how are you?" Rory shifts from foot to foot, nervous.

"I'm okay," Dean replies. He tries not to let it show. He didn't see the box clearly, but he knows. "I've gotta go to work."

"You're working?" Rory asks, her voice cracking. She was at a loss for anything else to say.

"Kirk has to take his mother to the podiatrist or something so I'm covering the second half of his shift."

"Oh. Well...that is very nice of you," Rory says, nodding once.

"Yeah, well, he begged me to..." The pause is unbelievably awkward. "So...I guess I'll see you."

"See ya." Rory walks backwards for three steps as she gives him a small wave good-bye, then turns on her heel and hurries off. Dean watches her go, the sight of her walking away from him hurting him more than it ever had. He knows he can't call her tonight and ask her how her day was. She won't ever give him any boring books to read, or pretend to like coming to his baseball games on the weekends. He'd never again feel her lips on his, his body close to hers. For the rest of his life, it'd be Rory Gilmore walking away from him.

She wasn't his anymore. She'd chosen to be with Tristan, and now it seemed that she would be with Tristan in a way she had never been with him. His heart was down on the pavement where she had just been, broken into a million pieces. It has been less than two weeks and she had already bought a box of condoms. She was with him for a year and they'd never even spoken about it. She is going to have sex with Tristan.

There had never before been a time in his life when he had simultaneously loved and hated someone so much.

* * *

"So what did you think of him?" Lorelai asks, not looking up from the magazine she is reading as Chris enters the living room. He lets out a long, deep breath, loosening his necktie.

"He doesn't seem as bad as you made him out to be."

"Let me guess, he was nice, polite, charming...kind to Rory, obviously worships her..." Chris mulls over Lorelai's words and she smirks. "Yeah, exactly."

"So what if he was?"

"Being the person you are, Chris, you should see how dangerous this guy is. He's everything a teenage girl would want, bundled up in a nice, pretty package. We don't want her unwrapping it." Chris laughs at her euphemism.

"Lorelai, Rory isn't going to unwrap anything. You're underestimating her." He sits down on the couch next to her. "And besides, he may seem perfect, but I'm sure he's not. Maybe he has some annoying habit that will drive Rory up the wall and before you know it, he'll be toast."

"You mean like jostling the couch while she's trying to drink coffee?" Lorelai replies, gesturing to the mug in her hand. Chris rolls his eyes at her. "So where's Rory? Outside saying good-bye?"

"They went for a walk."

"You let them go for a walk?"

"Are you serious?" Chris asks. "What are they going to do on a walk? It's Stars Hollow, for christ's sake." Now Lorelai rolls her eyes at him, returning to her magazine.

"Fine, whatever you say, Chris." She flips a page venomously.

"Is Luke here?"

"No, he's at the diner."

"Can we talk about last night, maybe?"

"I'd really rather not."

"Lorelai."

"Chris." She rises from the couch. "I'm out of coffee."

"This is how you're going to deal with it? Running away?"

"I'm walking at a brisk pace, I'm not running."

"Well, walk, run, whatever, you're good at it. It's like your signature move." Chris follows her into the kitchen.

"What?" Lorelai slams the fridge door as she gets out the coffee. "What does that mean?"

"It means that if you hadn't run away sixteen years ago we wouldn't even be having this problem."

"That is a low blow, Chris."

"Doesn't make it untrue."

"If I hadn't left with Rory back then, if I had married you, we would be divorced, probably bitter and angry, hating each other. You would rather have that?"

"You always say it wouldn't have worked out."

"It wouldn't have!"

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know for sure, Chris, no one does. But I'd wager a large amount of money that that would've been the outcome."

"You're so sure?"

"I am. But seeing as how this isn't a Choose Your Own Adventure, we can't just go back to the beginning and choose a different route. We're here. This is where we are. Deal with it."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No." Chris retorts, grabbing Lorelai around the waist and pulling her close to him. His lips are on hers before she even knows what's happening, and soon the all-too-familiar sensation of Chris-kissing-Lorelai shivers over her body. She loses herself in it for a moment, never strong willed enough to resist Christopher Hayden in her life. It takes a minute or so before she manages to wrench herself away from him, breathless and confused.

"God, you've always done that so well," she steadies herself by holding onto his arms, slightly dizzy.

"Only when I kiss you," he murmurs, moving to kiss her again.

"No, Chris," Lorelai stops him, gently shoving him away from her. "This...no."

"You just kissed me back, Lorelai. I felt it."

"I know. I know I did. I've never been able to not kiss you back, Christopher. That's just how I'm programmed. I'll always love you. But that's the past. I'm with Luke now. I want to be with Luke."

"You don't sound so sure."

"I want to be with Luke," Lorelai reiterates, her voice stronger this time, defiant.

"Lorelai, I can't live without you. I don't feel happy unless you're around...which means I haven't been happy for a very long time. I need you. Do you honestly think Luke feels the same way?"

"Chris, stop it," Lorelai states, wavering. "You're only saying these things because you can't have me. The second I say yes everything would change. You'd feel differently."

"That's not true. I love you."

"It's not the right kind of love, Chris, you know that. We don't work."

"We didn't work then. We're different people now."

"Chris."

"Can't we give it a shot?"

"Only if we're shooting to kill."

"Lorelai..."

"I'm happy with Luke, Christopher. I'm so happy. Why do you want to ruin that for me? Why can't you just let me be?"

"You and Rory are my world, Lorelai. I can't just give that up to some other guy without fighting for it."

"You can still have us, Chris. Luke isn't going to take us away. We'll still be in your life."

"Not the way I want you to be. I want us to be a family."

"We are a family. Just a different one."

"I know that deep down you want this too, Lorelai."

"And on that note, I'm going to bed. This is too much," Lorelai brushes past him and tries to escape to the stairs. He runs after her and catches her in her doorway, stopping her from entering her bedroom.

"I love you in a way that Luke never could," Chris tells her as he grabs her wrist, bringing her to a halt. She gazes at him, her face softening. She reaches out and caresses his cheek, remembering the countless hours she'd spent looking at that boyish face, thinking he'd be her forever.

"And Luke loves me in a way that you never could," Lorelai responds, her voice cracking. She withdraws her hand and steps into her bedroom, closing the door. Chris is left in the darkness, only able to hear the soft, choked sound of Lorelai's tears falling.

* * *

Rory glances at Tristan, admiring the way he looks in the moonlight. The reflection off the water rippling beneath them paints a shimmery glow over everything. Rory is tempted to dip her feet into the clear water, but thinks better of it, the cold night air tinged with the smell of winter. It would be snowing soon, the water frozen over. Shivering at the thought, she snuggles closer to her boyfriend, letting his strong arms warm her back up.

"I could stay out here with you forever," he murmurs to her, almost reading her mind. "It's so peaceful."

"Not like Hartford?"

"You can barely see the stars at my house. Here, you can see everything."

"I can only ever find the two dippers and Orion. Astronomy is definitely not something I will ever be good at," Rory tells him, leaning back to look at the sky.

"I used to know them all," Tristan says. "Not anymore."

"You should brush up, so then you can teach me," Rory laughs, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

"Why, so then I can actually teach you something instead of you always teaching me?"

"You teach me things all the time."

"I do? Like what?"

"You taught me a lot of music that I never knew about, for starters," Rory states, smiling, then turns serious. "And you also taught me to trust myself. You taught me that doing what I feel is not something to be scared of. You taught me that you can be the best of friends with someone and still not know everything about them, and that things that are scary are also exciting. You taught me what it feels like to be wanted, in a way no one has ever wanted me before..." She trails off, her eyes caressing his face. Her fingertips run over his soft lips as his head dips toward hers, her hands trembling ever-so-slightly. "And you taught me what it felt like to want back."

"Did I do all that?" He whispers, brushing his lips against hers.

"I want you, Tristan," she whispers back, turning her body slightly and letting him gain full access to her mouth, her lips dancing with his. Every time they kissed it felt different somehow, as if their lips were telling each other different stories, their tongues exchanging new secrets, learning from one another what they could never learn by themselves. Tristan's hands wind in her deep chestnut brown hair, never tired of feeling the long, soft strands between his fingers.

Her hands go to his necktie, loosening it and then untying it completely. Tristan, caught in the moment, pulls her light cardigan off her shoulders, letting it waft the short way down to the wooden planks of the bridge. They kiss for quite awhile, completely lost in one another, content.

"Hey Ror...?" Tristan murmurs, breaking away from her, breathless. He rests his forehead against hers. "Hmm?" She doesn't open her eyes, her lips brushing against his again. "What I said...on the phone yesterday...I just wanted to make sure that..." Rory's eyes are open now, her heart racing a mile a minute. Was he going to retract what he said? Did he really not mean it? Oh god, what if he didn't? What does he mean? "I know that it was kind of out of nowhere. I know that. But I just...I really meant it."

Rory smiles warmly at Tristan. It always amazed her that he could go from being cocky and confident to so bumbling and awkward when it came to real emotions. It is endearing and appealing, his stumbling honesty.

"Rory?" He asks softly, wanting her to respond. She touches his lips with two fingers, silencing him, and then kisses him once more.

"I meant it too," she murmurs back, letting him deepen the kiss. Her body gets warmer, the acknowledgment of their feelings making her feel more comfortable than she had been all night. "Hey, Tris?" She whispers as he begins kissing her neck, leaving her free to speak.

"Hmm-mmm?"

"I thought I should tell you..."

"Tell me...?"

"I bought condoms today."

"What?" Tristan jerks away from her in surprise, but he moves too fast and loses his balance. In a split second he tilts too far backward and falls into the pond, with a yelp of shock. Rory gasps, stifling her natural response to giggle. As he surfaces, his hair clinging to his face, she can't hold back the laughter.

"Oh god, Tristan..." she covers her mouth with her hand, staring at him.

"Oh, you think this is funny, huh?" He asks as she offers him her other hand to help him out. In a split second, she's in the water with him. "Funny now?"

"You doofus!" She cries out as she sputters, wiping water from her eyes. She splashes him and he splashes back. "Now we're both completely soaked."

"Well, you shouldn't have laughed."

"We're both gonna get sick now."

"It's not _that_ cold."

"It's freezing! Come on...the quicker we get home the quicker we can change." Tristan lifts himself out onto the dock and then helps Rory up. They both look each other up and down and laugh. "At least we know you can pull off the nearly drowned look."

"You look quite nice as a water nymph yourself," Tristan compliments, gathering their things in one arm and wrapping his other around her. Dripping, they cross the bridge and hurry toward home.

* * *

Rory opens the front door slowly, the creak seeming twice as loud as usual. She tiptoes in and glances around. She can hear her mom's snoring from upstairs, and peeking into the living room, she can see her dad sound asleep on the couch, also snoring. She motions for Tristan to be very quiet and gestures for him to come in. They walk as quietly and as quickly as they can through the foyer, into the kitchen, and into Rory's bedroom.

"I'll go get some towels. And I think Luke probably has some of his stuff in the laundry. I'll grab something for you," Rory tells Tristan in a whisper, immediately going back out of her room. Minutes later she returns with a stack of towels, a plastic garbage bag, and a pair of sweatpants and a plaid shirt. "For your wet stuff," she explains the garbage bag, since clearly they couldn't just start up the dryer now. She hangs up her own wet clothes on a hanger and hooks it over the top of her open closet door, then turns back to Tristan. They both stop and look at each other, wondering what to do next. "Um...here." Rory hands him a towel as she crosses the room to her dresser.

"Thanks." Tristan unbuttons his dress shirt and tosses it into the bag. Rory stops in the midst of drying off her arms and legs and watches him, the now-familiar stirring of attraction beginning within her. Tristan feels her gaze and stops as well, mistaking her lack of movement for her being uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry...I can get changed in the bathroom," Tristan picks up his new dry Luke wear and steps toward the door. Rory pauses, almost letting him go, but then she sets her hand on the door, keeping it closed. "What's the matter?" Rory doesn't say anything, instead turning around and lifting her wet hair off of her back. Tristan gazes at her shoulders for a moment, not really sure what she wants to happen here. Gingerly he unzips her dress, going very slowly. Reaching the end, he sets his hands on her shoulders timidly. She is unmoving, as if waiting from a sign from him. Gently, he runs his hand down her back, her ivory skin soft and perfect.

Rory steps away from him, turning to face him. He is watching her every single movement, transfixed.

She stands in front of him, her wide blue eyes gazing up at him, beautiful and honest. Tristan lifts his hands and circles them around her delicate waist, not able to stop himself. He watches his own hands as they move across her body, feeling disconnected from them, as if he's watching a film. Rory's stomach quivers as his fingers run over her lower abdomen, his hands hot against her skin even through the wet fabric of her dress. She is breathing deeply, almost too evenly, evidently trying very hard to control herself. Tristan can't look up. He can't look at her again. One glance at her face and he'd be a goner, lost to any sense of reason.

Rory watches his hands too, sensing his trepidation. He touches her as if he's afraid he'll break her, or just maybe plain afraid.

"Tristan," she whispers, wanting him to look at her. She wants to see his face, to tell him that it's okay. "Tris..." She nudges his chin with her hand but he avoids her gaze. Her fingers twine in the fabric of his undershirt, tugging the garment upward. Tristan's eyes finally snap to hers, questioningly. Rory nods, and he complies, pausing for a moment before pulling his shirt over his head. Nervously he runs his fingers through his damp hair, unsure. He wanted Rory to tell him what she wanted, where this was going. His mind was on red alert, desperately trying to remind his body that this couldn't continue. Rory moves closer to him, letting her body meld with his as their lips find one another's. The kiss is hot and wet, desperate and desirous. Her still damp skin warms against his; they press closer together, longing for more.

Tristan's head is spinning. It feels surreal. He's in Rory's bedroom, late at night, alone with her. They're kissing, touching, exploring...It's a dream. It has to be a dream...he's had these dreams before. The heavy, erotic dreams that cause him to wake up in the middle of the night in a hot sweat, desperate for release. The dreams that he always remembers when he sees her first thing in the morning at school, giving him the urge to take her inside the janitor's closet and make love to her right there. It has to be a dream like that. Because these things didn't happen, not with Rory.

But it is happening. And it is Rory. She's kissing him, touching him. Her hands are going to far downward, her body requesting more than he felt right to give her. He wants her way too much; she is making it hard for him to think straight. Any second he would lose the battle.

Her parents are in the house.

He repeats the idea again. Her parents are in the house. This can not happen.

He tries to stop. Her kisses are persistent, not realizing that he's trying to pull away.

"Rory...we should stop..." She pays no heed to his words and in reality, neither does he. "Ror...come on," he murmurs, stepping backward. She just comes with him.

"Mary, stop." Tristan says strongly as he rips himself from her, gently pushing her away. Pain and confusion washes over Rory's face at hearing the name, her hands immediately moving to cover herself.

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Rory, you didn't do anything wrong," Tristan assures her, hating the look on her face. She crosses the room to her dresser, creating as much space as possible between them. "It's all just too fast." He tries to find the words to tell her everything he really wants to say, but his mind fails him. She doesn't say anything either. Wordlessly, he grabs the stack of Luke's clothes and walks out of her bedroom.

"Rory, maybe I should..." he whispers, gesturing toward the door. Things were moving fast, and he felt maybe faster than was good for them. Rory may feel a certain way now, caught up in the moment, but tomorrow...

Rory watches him walk out, feeling the stupidest she's ever felt in her life. She'd thrown herself at him, she had. She hadn't meant to. It just happened. She didn't know what she was doing, and that was never more apparent then now. He must think she's an idiot. He was a guy...guys never complained about things moving fast. She must've done something wrong. He called her Mary. Mary. God, she was such a Mary...and there she was, trying to be a Magdalene. What an idiot. He must think she's an idiot.

Tristan opens Rory's bedroom door a few minutes later, entering the room slowly. She's sitting on the edge of her bed, dressed in an oversized t-shirt, clutching her pillow to her chest. His heart splits in two at seeing the look on her face.

"Rory, I'm sorry," he says, crossing to her. He sits down next to her and she shirks away from him. "Ror, please don't."

"It's my fault," she mumbles. "I didn't realize that...I thought that you wanted to...but I was wrong. I'm stupid, I didn't think..."

"Are you serious?" Tristan asks, laughing slightly in utter disbelief. "You really think that I don't want to?"

"You just made that very clear," she responds, hugging her pillow tighter to her, hurt by his amusement.

"Ror, considering what just happened, you should know that I very, very much wanted to," Tristan brushes her hair back from her face, speaking gently into her ear. Rory turns her head slightly and looks at Tristan, who has a light, reassuring smile upon his face.

"Then why did you stop?"

"Your dad is right in the living room. Your mom is upstairs!" "God,I know..."

"If they woke up...I'd never see you again. You know that." Tristan states and Rory winces.

"I don't even know what I was thinking. I know...I know that this was in now way the right time. I just...I couldn't stop myself," Rory admits, embarrassed. "I feel like a complete moron."

"You're not a moron, in any way, shape or form," Tristan assures her adamantly. "It's right that we stopped," he adds on. "We're not..._there_ yet."

"I feel like I am, though."

"Rory, it's only been a few weeks, how could-"

"I've known you for over a year. We've been friends for six months. It's different."

"It's still fast."

"People have sex on first dates, Tristan. This is slow in comparison."

"Not for you, Mary."

"I don't want to be a Mary, Tristan. I want to be yours. Obviously not tonight, but I know that I do."

"You are mine," Tristan replies. "As much mine as an independent, stubborn, brilliant girl can be, anyway," he grins. "And while I think about having sex with you...constantly...I've always known that it shouldn't happen for awhile. It's not you."

"How do you know that? I'm not a court case, with some lengthy legal precendent to back that up, you know. I've had one boyfriend. Just because I didn't sleep with Dean doesn't mean that I'm this virginal, untouchable thing. You say that you think about it...well I do too. All the time."

"You think about it all the time?" Tristan asks, a bit surprised.

"Yes, unfortunately. It's beginning to interfere with my studying."

"Huh, yours too?" Tristan jokes, shaking his head. Rory turns to face him, putting her hand on his sweatpant-clad knee.

"If we're both ready, Tristan, I don't see why we should wait. I thought that was the whole point, that when you're ready, you're ready. That's how it works."

"I just don't want to rush into anything, Rory. I don't want to screw us up. Sex changes things." Rory's face falls, reminded of the fact she's the only virgin in the room. Tristan knows what she's thinking. "I've only done it once, Ror. I've dated around, not slept around. I'm not the lothario that people have made me out to be."

"It was Summer?"

"It wasn't Summer. It was before I met you, back when my grandfather was sick," Tristan sighs as the expression on Rory's face does not change. He reaches down and twines his fingers with hers. "See, we should have time to talk about things like this before we reached this point. We've never had...that talk."

"Well, we're having it now."

"Yeah, I guess we are. Does it make you feel better, at all?"

"In a way," Rory replies softly. "I guess I just feel embarassed."

"By what?"

"By...everything..." She gestures down to her body. "I've never...been that forward before..."

"Don't be embarrassed about that," Tristan reassures her, moving his hand to her bare leg. His fingers tickle her inner thigh lightly. "I loved that. I loved that a lot," he emphasizes. The pair smiles gently at one another, feeling more at ease than they were minutes before. "Which is why I'm actually glad that your parents were home."

"Why?"

"I don't know if I would've been able to stop otherwise," he tells her honestly. "I want you, Rory. Just because you're a Mary doesn't mean that you're not sexy. To me, you're the sexiest girl in the world, whether we have sex or not. So don't ever worry about that, okay?"

"What makes you think I was worried about that?" Rory asks.

"Because I know you," Tristan replies. Rory leans in and kisses him gently, feeling inately connected to him at that moment, in the safe, comforting haven of her bedroom, so late at night. It's like they're the only two people awake in the entire world, just the two of them, alone.

"So what do we do now?" Rory inquires as her lips leave his.

"I should probably go home," Tristan says. "I'm sure I'll get you in trouble if I stay."

"Stay," Rory shakes her head. "We can just sleep."

"But what about your mom?"

"I'll set my alarm, you can leave before they wake up," Rory responds, laying down onto her bed. Tristan thinks about it for a moment and then lays down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He breathes in the rich scent of her hair as she pulls the covers up and over their bodies. She snuggles closer to him with a contented sigh. "I like this," she murmurs happily.

"Me too," Tristan whispers back, reaching over and turning off the light. "Me too."

_To be continued..._

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoyed it.


	16. Christmas

_Chapter Sixteen: Christmas _

"It's really times like these that I wish we had a fireplace. Or one of those tv fireplace video thingys, at least," Lorelai states, gesturing toward the television set with one outstretched hand while snuggling in closer to Luke with the other. "Wouldn't that make this moment absolutely perfect? Maybe we can turn up the heat in the house and have Rory come in here and flicker the lights a bit."

"Yes, that would be exactly like having a fire. No one would be the wiser," Luke chuckles, tugging the faded knit afghan back up around Lorelai's shoulders.

"Though, we wouldn't be able to make s'mores..."

"You shouldn't eat them anyway, they'll rot your teeth."

"I think you missed your calling as a children's television show host. What do you think? Trade in your plaid shirts and get cardigans? You can be the next Mr. Rogers," Lorelai suggests, patting his chest playfully.

"Ah yes, my lifelong dream."

"I think it'd be amusing to see."

"Yeah, if you wanted to see a couple of annoying rugrats get thrown out of my living room every day, I think that'd work out real well."

"That makes me glad that you weren't living here when Rory was young."

"Rory's the exception to the rule."

"Oh, she gets immunity from your blanket hatred of children? I'm sure she'd be glad to know. I'd go tell her right now except I'm *far* too comfortable. In fact, I think I might just stay here forever."

"I think my arm might have a problem with that," Luke mumbles, shifting his arm slightly underneath Lorelai's body. She lifts her head from his shoulder, wincing.

"Oh, did I make it fall asleep again? I hate that needly tingly feeling." She pulls away from him, sitting on the edge of the couch and twisting to grab his arm. She massages it a little, glancing up at Luke after a moment. "Better?"

"Much, thanks," Luke tells her, though it's obvious he's just placating her. "I'm going to make some tea. You want some?"

"I'd like some coffee, if that's what you meant to ask."

"No, I meant to say tea."

"Oh." Lorelai screws up her face in disgust. "Well then, no. Maybe we should go make some anyway though, I really should check on Rory."

"I haven't heard anything."

"Exactly. That means they're doing something besides talking..." Lorelai shimmies off the couch and stands up, offering Luke her hand. "Come on, dear Lucas, let us go meander into the kitchen and so very non-chalantly peek in on the darling couple."

"I'm sure Rory won't see through that."

"*So* not the point. She's my daughter. I'm supposed to have some lame excuse to go check on her when she's alone in her room with her boyfriend and she's supposed to see right through my pretenses and get annoyed and then we laugh about it forty years from now. Even though by then I'll be so senile I won't know what she's talking about and just laugh because I'm batty," Lorelai explains to Luke as he follows her into the kitchen. She walks ever-so-innocently past Rory's door, pausing as if a thought had just occurred to her. "Rory, Tristan, Luke and I are making some tea. Would you like anything?"

Rory and Tristan, who are sitting just as innocently on Rory's bed, doing homework, look up at her, apparently startled.

"Oh, no thanks, Mom...Tristan?" Rory turns to him, and he shakes his head no.

"I'm good...but thank you very much for the offer," Tristan gives her a smile, which she amiably returns before turning and walking across the kitchen to Luke. He's standing at the stove, putting the kettle on.

"See, they were behaving themselves," Luke says. Lorelai gives him a look that seems to shout "How dense are you?"

"Poor, poor Luke. You have much to learn," Lorelai shakes her head. "She heard me coming. They were totally making out in there two seconds ago," she half-whispers, taking the kettle from him.

"How do you know that?" Luke retorts. "What are you doing?"

"We don't actually have to make the tea, Luke, it was just a front," Lorelai tells him as she pours the water back into the sink. "And just trust me, I've had a lot of experience. I know what pretending you weren't making out looks like." Luke reaches out and takes the kettle back from her.

"Hey, maybe I really did want some tea?"

Lorelai stops, momentarily dumbfounded.

"Oh. Right. Well, you sure you want tea? I think you really want some nice, sugary, unhealthy soda? Perhaps some extra-rich hot chocolate?"

"Lorelai..."

"Luke..." She grins at him, leaning in and giving him a short but sweet kiss. She goes to pull away but Luke insistently brings her back to him. She smiles against his lips and lets him deepen the kiss.

A small cough causes them to break apart. Rory is standing by the kitchen table.

"Sorry, I just came in to see if I left one of my notebooks out here," Rory informs them, pausing before returning to her room, mostly closing her bedroom door. Lorelai looks up at Luke, cocking an eyebrow. She points to Rory's door.

"See? What I said before? Resentment of my check-up. That was payback. And a suave attempt to casually close her door. She is getting good."

"She learned from the master."

"The apprentice has not surpassed the master, however. Need I point out that Darth Vader got all cocky with Obi Wan only to be thwarted by my man Obi's wisdom-"

"Your man Obi?"

"You must remember that Alec Guiness Obi was once Ewan MacGregor Obi. In _Star Wars_ time, anyway, because in our time...it would really be the other way around, because of the whole 4-5-6 then 1 and 2 thing..." Lorelai is distracted by the thought for a moment, then refocuses. "But that's not the point."

"What is the point? That you're a closet _Star Wars_ freak?"

"It's a fine set of films, but I'm certainly not about to go line up for tickets a year in advance or go to, say, a big huge convention full of fellow, desperate fans. Like I'm sure someone in this room might do if, oh, I dunno... _Star Trek_ came to town."

"I was 11! Let it go."

"Never. But to get back to my original point here," Lorelai restarts.

"Please enlighten me."

"Vader thought he was hot stuff, but in the end he was really just an ugly old bald guy with lots of scars and the gayest son in the universe. I mean, everyone else in the galaxy was fine with it, but Vader was more than likely not too cool with having a light-in-the-space-combat-boots son. I'm surprised the sandstorms on Tatooine didn't blow that boy away."

"Since when was Luke Skywalker gay?"

"Oh please. 'Han, can you reach my lightsaber?' Biggest come on ever." Lorelai responds, heading toward Rory's room once agian. She opens the door halfway, just in time to see Rory pull away from Tristan's embrace. "Hey. Compromise. Halfway."

Rory looks at her for only a second before nodding.

"Deal."

"And don't think I don't have a sixth sense about these things," Lorelai shakes a warning finger at her daughter and her boyfriend. "I know all and see all."

"Yes, we know, you're an omniscient goddess. But really, we weren't doing anything bad."

Lorelai eyes them both with over-dramatic suspicion, backing out of Rory's bedroom slowly.

"Because I'm in the Christmas spirit, I'll give you the gift of benefit of the doubt. Luke and I will be in the living room." Lorelai exits, leaving Tristan and Rory to their own devices.

They smile at one another, Tristan reaching out and running his hand through Rory's long brown hair. His hand continues over her shoulder, down her arm, to the curve of her bottom, which is where he stops and gently pulls her body closer to him, bringing her half into his lap.

"We have about what...twenty minutes before she comes back?" Tristan asks, kissing her softly on her neck.

"Fifteen, tops." Rory murmurs. "Though we should probably at least study a little before you have to go home. We do have end of semester exams coming...up...oh...wow...um, okay. You're going to have to stop that..." Rory's eyes flicker open and closed as Tristan tenderly worships the spot on her graceful neck that he had long since discovered drove her mad. She loses the battle and her eyes drift closed; all she can hear is the quiet strains of Coldplay's _"Don't Panic"_ echoing from her stereo, the sound of Tristan's lips pressing to her skin, their breathing, and the faint sound of Luke and her mother talking in the other room. Tristan's fingers unbutton the bottom button on her shirt so he can touch her warm stomach, and she quickly forces his hands away. "Yeah, stop right now." She orders him, though her voice is not forceful at all.

Tristan kisses her on the lips, letting his hands roam over her thin jean-clad legs as he tugs her fully onto his lap. She circles her arms around his neck, smiling as he pulls away.

"Speaking of the end of the semester...what do you have planned for winter break?" He inquires.

"Apart from having our usual holiday movie marathon and gorging ourselves on enough junk food to kill a small family of elves, not much. Just the town Christmas pageant, dance and festival, Lane's family's Christmas service, dinner with my grandparents, New Year's party at Sookie's...and mine and my mother's early morning Christmas and New Year's rituals..."

"Oh, is that it?" Tristan laughs. "So what are the early morning rituals?"

"On Christmas morning, my mom drags me out of bed at the ungodly hour of six am, we go for a snow walk, make snow angels, throw snowballs at Doose's Market's windows, go home, open presents, then go to Luke's for breakfast where she bugs and badgers him until he gives in and joins us and Sookie for dinner. Which I guess she won't have to do this year. I would think."

"And New Year's?"

"That's when I drag her out of bed, with a list of resolutions...things to do, projects to get started on...we actually go out and start running errands, then my mom says she needs to go to Luke's for coffee, where inevitably we run into Lane, who is always wiped out from her family's church-going and such. So we go rent movies and Lane eats enough bad, fattening food to make her strong enough to eat tofu for a week, then we all end up asleep in the living room by two o'clock in the afternoon. It's great."

"It sounds great."

"What do you usually do?"

"Well, for Christmas, my parents go to visit my brother in England. Sometimes I go with, sometimes not. Last year I spent Christmas with our maid and butler, Antoine and George. It was really nice, no joke. Quiet and peaceful," Tristan adds on hastily, seeing the dismayed look on Rory's face. "For New Year's my father throws an annual party, which your grandparents always come to, actually. There, I usually down more champagne than someone my age ought to, tug at the bowtie of my tux as it takes on a life of its own and begins to strangle me, glare at my mom as she pulls a Samantha and flirts with the bartender while my dad talks business all night. Then I go up to my room as soon as the ball drops."

"That's so sad."

"No it's not, it's just the way things are," Tristan shrugs. "I mean, I didn't bring it up so we could have a pity party for me. I've got it better off than half the kids in our school. The reason I brought it up was to see if maybe you wanted to spend the holidays together..." Tristan murmurs into Rory's ear, his fingers reaching out and twining with hers in their laps.

"What did you have in mind?"

"My family's lodge in Vermont. We could go skiing." Rory outright laughs, pulling away from his butterfly kisses.

"You really think that I could ski? Could you see that? I'd kill myself," Rory giggles.

"I could teach you."

"I am unteachable. The way that I play sports is very much the _Daria_ method. Jump out of the way if the ball comes in your direction. It works wonderfully." Tristan looks a bit disappointed. "Besides, you really think that my mom would let you take me to your ski lodge in Vermont? It's been almost two months since the 'incident' and she checks on us every fifteen minutes to make sure we're not pawing each other."

"But we *are* always pawing each other," Tristan chuckles, his hands once again on her legs. "And yet she still seems to be warming up to me."

"She'd have to be a tropical paradise in order for this trip to take place. Maybe next year," Rory assures him, and this thought brings a smile upon his face rather than a frown. Rory furrows her brow.

"What?"

"You said next year. You're thinking about next year already. With me."

"Oh my god, you're such a girl," Rory laughs, smiling teasingly.

"I'm what? I'm a girl?" Tristan tips her backward onto the bed, wrinkling her notes and books underneath her as he lands on top of her. "How am I a girl?"

"Cause you're getting all sentimental about me making plans. Such a girl. You might as well be reading Judy Blume."

"You're harsh," Tristan mumbles, his laughter subsiding.

"Tough as nails, baby," Rory responds, tipping her head upward as Tristan's lips descend on hers, his tongue surging into her mouth. She's instantly reminded that Tristan DuGrey is very much not a girl. Rory sinks into her mattress, reveling in the feel of his masculine body laying atop hers, the stubble on his chisled face brushing against her soft skin as he kisses her deeply, his broad strong hands searching her body for just the right resting place. She can feel herself slipping into the now familiar territory of weakness, feeling her willpower slipping away like sand through her fingers.

"Oh god," Tristan mutters as Rory kisses him passionately, wishing that this could last longer.

But she knows that fifteen minutes will be up sooner rather than later. Smiling as a thought comes to her, she breaks away from Tristan's lips, laughing softly.

"_Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret_," She simpers and Tristan stops instantly, looking down at her.

"Oh, that's it," he laughs, tackling her, tickling her furiously. Rory shrieks with laughter, unable to stop herself. She scrambles to get away, but Tristan has her firmly in his clutches.

"Ahhh!" Rory shrieks, laughing so hard it made her sides hurt. "Stop, oh my god, stop!"

"Not until you say uncle."

"Never!" Rory cries out, once again trying to get away. Tristan pulls her back toward him, pinning her onto the bed. Lorelai opens up Rory's bedroom door to find Tristan on top of her daughter, both of them laughing hard and wildly out of breath.

"What is going on in here?"

"Your daughter needed to be tickled."

"Everyone always says that! But no one ever tells me why," Lorelai shrugs, shaking her head.

"I called him a girl-"

"And for that she needed punishment," Tristan cuts her off.

"A girl? Tristan, something you want to tell us?" Lorelai is amused. Tristan shoots an exasperated look at his girlfriend, still underneath him.

"You _had_ to tell her. I'm never going to hear the end of it now."

"You're the one who had to tickle me," Rory grins wickedly. Tristan lets go of her and she scoots out from underneath him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and he makes a face back.

"Okay, you two, if you want to stop acting like first graders, Luke and I ordered pizza and we're going to watch _Bull Durham_- his choice not mine - if you want to join us."

"Sounds good, we'll be out in a bit," Rory nods, and Lorelai leaves, glancing back once to double check on the pair.

"What if I didn't want to watch _Bull Durham_ and eat pizza, huh?" Tristan asks, raising an eyebrow at Rory.

"Baseball and Susan Sarandon's legs? I know you too well to not know you'd love that," Rory states, cocking a crooked smile at him. "And even if you didn't want to...I could make it up to you. Because tomorrow after school, I have a study date with Mary."

"I thought Mary has jazz band practice on Thursdays," Tristan asks, not catching Rory's drift.

"No she doesn't."

"Yes she does. You've told me that like a million times, cause we can't have newspaper meetings on Thursdays because-" Rory cuts him off, putting her fingers to his lips.

"*No*, she doesn't," she looks into his eyes, moving closer to him, a smile dancing upon her lips. A look of clarity dawns on Tristan's face. "I just thought we could use an afternoon alone. Though if my mom finds out she'll be really mad."

"Well, she won't find out then. Besides...I think she might be slightly fond of me now," Tristan grins.

"Maybe."

"Yeah, maybe. Come on," Rory stands up, offering Tristan her hand. He rises from the bed, following her toward the door. When they get close to it, Tristan stops her, shutting the door. He backs her against it, lifting her up off the ground. Rory circles her legs around his waist, falling easily into the passionate, yearning kiss that he lays upon her lips. "Whoa," Rory breathes out, resting her forehead against his as they break apart.

"To hold us both over until you study with Mary," Tristan says, setting her back down on the ground gently. "And nice Keanu impersonation, by the way." He opens the door for her, stepping aside to let her exit first.

"You're terrible," Rory states as she walks into the kitchen.

"And you're beautiful," Tristan responds. Rory stops, a giddy smile alighting upon her demure face.

"You know, sometimes, you just say these things and I don't see them coming at all."

"Behold the power of Cheese!" Lorelai booms as she enters the kitchen, smirking at her smitten daughter. "Tristan,that was one nicely timed compliment. Up there with the best of the best. He's the Maverick of smoothtalkers, this one. Should I cue the Righteous Brothers now or save it for later?"

"Can't, I don't have Goose to sing backup for me. And besides, I was just speaking the truth."

"Indeed you were. Look at this mug. Have you seen anything prettier anywhere in the world?" Lorelai gestures to Rory's face and she blushes, looking down at the floor.

"Hey, could we stop discussing me and my...whatever?" Rory pleads.

"We could...but then we wouldn't get to see you turn that lovely shade of pink. I think my bedroom used to be that color. Hmmm. Another thing to add to the list of complaints against my mother."

"Hey, we were just talking about Grandma and Grandpa."

"You were talking about your *grandparents*? My, makeout conversation sure has changed since I was a teenager. If I had mentioned my grandparents when I was...well, I probably wouldn't have you, kiddo!" Lorelai teases. Rory rolls her eyes, laughing lightly.

"I guess they always go to the DuGrey New Year's party. Tristan and I were talking about plans for winter break."

"Whatcha two up to?" Luke inquires, coming into the room.

"Oh, we don't know yet...we were just throwing some ideas around. Nothing definite," Rory stumbles nervously and Lorelai gives her a quizzical look.

"Well let me know if you have anything definite, will you?" Lorelai pokes her daughter in the arm. Rory is saved from further inquisition into the matter by the doorbell ringing. "Oh, Joe's here! Pizza, pizza, pizza! I'm hungry enough to eat a whole _box_ of Scooby Snacks."

"And you didn't even have to smoke up," Luke replies, turning back around and heading to the foyer.

"I don't like knowing the Shaggy was a pothead. It totally re-colors all my childhood memories of that show," Rory whines, pouting.

"Makes you think, though. Were there really any ghosts at all? Or were they all hallucinations from doing acid or 'shrooms? The whole thing could've been drug induced. Perhaps Scooby didn't even talk," Tristan theorizes. Rory's frown deepens.

"You're going to make Rory cry," Lorelai laughs as Luke returns with the food.

"That kid needs to cut his hair," Luke mutters, returning with the pizza.

"Oh, I like the whole Carrot Top thing Joe has going on," Lorelai counters. Luke sets the pizza on the table and Lorelai flips open the lid, her stomach growling. "Delicious food...Pizza, how I love thee, let me count the ways...

While Lorelai starts her poetic motions, Luke, Rory and Tristan all reach in and take a piece of the pizza. Lorelai scowls.

"You don't want to hear all the ways?"

"Later," Rory mumbles with a mouth half full of food, gesturing with her elbow toward the living room.

"Let's go start the movie."

"You took the piece with the dough bubble...I love the dough bubble..." Lorelai pouts to Luke, who hands it over. Lorelai grins ear-to-ear. "I love you," Lorelai kisses him and then dashes off to join Rory. Tristan and Luke exchange looks.

"Nothing says I love you more than giving up the dough bubble," Tristan smirks. Luke shakes his head, sadly.

"They're crazy. Completely nuts."

"Hurry up! You're missing Susan Sarandon's legs!" Lorelai shouts from the living room.

Tristan and Luke exchange looks once more.

"Can't miss that."

"Nope."

They're met with knowing, expectant grins as they enter the room.

"We forgot to get drinks..." Rory starts sweetly. Tristan laughs.

"My turn," Tristan spins back around and goes to the kitchen, knowing he should have seen that one coming.

* * *

Lorelai takes another bite of the pheasant that is on her carefully arranged, meticulously decorated china plate and forces a smile at her mother. Emily sits at the end of the table, eating her green beans one by one. Lorelai switches her gaze to her daughter, who looks worn out.

"Rory, you're barely eating anything. Are you feeling okay?" Lorelai asks, concerned, though secretly slightly happy at finding a new topic of conversation. Her mother making a thoughtless comment about the manner in which she had started to eat her pheasant had left a lull in the polite chit chat.

"Yes, Rory, dear, you haven't even touched your food. Is everything all right?"

"Do you have a stomachache? Gisele can get you a cup of gingerale if you'd like," Richard chimes in, worried.

"Gisele? I thought your new maid was named Amelia," Lorelai is momentarily distracted from her daughter, surprised that her parents had yet again not bothered to learn their own maid's name.

"Oh, Amelia was gone by Sunday," Emily states as if Lorelai shouldn't have even had to ask. "This one is named Gisele."

"Obviously. Well, Rory, would you like _Gisele_ to get some gingerale for you?" Lorelai inquires.

"No, really, I'm okay. I'm just tired. It's been a long week at school."

"Yes, with exams coming up, I imagine all of your time is spent studying."

"Not that she needs to worry about that, with her intelligence," Richard states proudly.

"Still, it is better safe than sorry," Emily points out.

"Well of course. Rory is responsible enough to know that. She always puts her schoolwork first."

"Did I say she didn't, Richard?" Emily snipes, finding fault in his tone.

"I didn't mean to imply that you had said anything of the sort, Emily."

"Ror, you sure you're not feeling sick?" Lorelai asks, hopefully this time.

"I'm really fine," Rory states, spearing a green bean on her fork. "So, Grandma, Grandpa, what are your plans for Christmas?"

"We're having our usual party, dear."

"There would be an outrage if we didn't," Richard chortles, pleased at the thought. Emily joins him in an amused smile.

"And yes, Lorelai, I am making the apple tarts. I'll even prepare an extra plate for you to take home."

"Why, Mother, I could kiss you right now," Lorelai replies and Emily gives her a tight smile, the kind she reserves for the many occasions in which she can't tell if Lorelai is joking or not.

"And for New Year's?" Rory continues her questioning, still playing with the green bean on her fork.

"We usually go to the DuGrey's. Why, I suppose we'll see you there this year, won't we? How darling. Our first New Year's with our granddaughter, Richard."

"You know, Rory, that's the second time you've brought up your grandparents' plans this week. Something on your mind?" Lorelai gives Rory an inquisitive look. Rory shrugs.

"No, no reason."

"It really is a pity that we never get to spend New Year's Eve together, Lorelai. But you're always off doing something else."

"Hey, you just said you always go to the party at the DuGrey's, so who is the one off doing something else?" Lorelai retorts, smirking.

"But Rory, we will see you, will we not?" Richard looks to his granddaughter expectantly.

"Oh, um...I don't know..."

"Why not? Something didn't happen between you and Tristan, did it?" Emily is alarmed.

"No...no. It's just we haven't talked about our plans yet."

"But you told me just the other night that you had been discussing it," Lorelai points out, putting Rory on the hot seat. Rory looks between both her grandparents, who await her answer.

"We were...I mean, not really...we didn't really get into it that much..." Rory stumbles. "I guess we were throwing some ideas around. That's all."

"Well, I hope one of those ideas was going to his parents' party, because we would love to see you there. And Tristan too. It would be the absolutely picture perfect way to start off the New Year. And just think, Lorelai, you could spend the New Year's with Lucas."

"It's Luke, Mom. And Rory and I have a tradition. A very long tradition."

"Perhaps it's time to make a new tradition. And speaking of _Luke_, where is he tonight?"

"Same place he is every Friday, Mom. At the diner. It's a busy night, how many times must we have this conversation where you pretend not to know why he's not here just so you can make a rude comment about him working instead of eating with you and Dad?"

"Until he realizes that that diner can survive a night without him, and that eating a weekly dinner with his future family is more important than work, that's how many times," Emily lays it out simply. Lorelai drops her fork to her plate.

"Future family? Mom, you're not putting the cart before the horse, you're putting all your eggs in one basket and then having the horse and the cart run over them. And because of that, none of the chickens you've already counted will hatch!" Lorelai exclaims.

"I'm just saying what everyone already knows, Lorelai. It's only a matter of time until you two take the next step. We all know it, I've accepted it, your father has accepted it, the least the man could do is give us a little common courtesy."

"Rory. Dear. Are you *positive* that you're all right?"

"Hm-hmmm."

"Not feeling a headache coming on? Your stomach turning?"

"Nope."

"You don't have to lie, Rory. It's okay if you need to go home. Your grandparents won't be upset."

"For goodness sake, Lorelai, leave the poor girl alone. Rory says that she feels fine. Therefore, she is fine until she says otherwise," Richard says.

"I'm just trying to let her know she can say otherwise if she wants to. Say, like, right now. Because if she doesn't, I might have to tell the both of you about the darndest thing that she and Tristan were doing last Saturday night-" Lorelai slaps her knee in overdone joy, laughing at the thought. Rory's eyes bulge.

"Ow! Oh! Oh god. Cramps. Cramps." Rory clutches her stomach.

"See, she's not feeling well after all. Time to go home."

"Oh, honestly, Lorelai. You think it's funny to make your daughter lie for you?"

"No, really, cramps. Ow!" Rory stands, still clutching her stomach and hobbling toward the door. Lorelai is already ahead of her.

"You haven't even had dessert!" Emily exclaims, exasperated.

"We really should get home, you see how much pain she's in. Thanks for dinner!" Lorelai calls as she and Rory hurry out the door. Emily tosses her napkin onto the table, looking across at her husband, who is equally dismayed.

"The nerve of that girl, Richard, I don't know why we bother."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have pressed the idea of marriage on her, Emily. We both know how she feels about that _particular issue_." Richard's disapproval of Lorelai's stance is evident in his voice.

"Well if someone doesn't nudge her in the right direction, we'll never have a son-in-law, or more grandchildren."

"Rory is just fine by me," Richard states.

"Me too, I just..." Emily sighs, letting her thought fade away. "What do you suppose Lorelai meant by that comment?"

"What comment?"

"About Tristan and Rory doing something on Saturday night."

"I don't think we'd want to know, Emily," Richard shakes his head. Emily's face crinkles with worry, then furrows tighter in frustration.

"Oh, that girl. Lorelai is going to make me go insane. Gisele! Gisele! May we have dessert please?" No answer. "Gisele!" Still no answer. Emily slides her chair back harshly and gets up, heading to the kitchen. "What do you have to do to get decent help these days? It's impossible, Richard, I swear it." She leaves, and Richard sighs. He picks up the paper from next to him and opens to the classifieds.

"Good-bye, Gisele..."

* * *

Lane hunkers down into her secret closet hideaway, turning up the volume very carefully on her stereo. She digs out a can of Red Bull and hands it to Rory, then opens one for herself.

"So, Henry asked me to spend Christmas Eve at his house, with his family."

"Really?" Rory smiles widely. "That's so exciting."

"It is, isn't it? Of course I can't go, but it was nice that he asked, right?"

"That's definitely all that matters. And maybe you could see each other at least for a little while?" Lane shakes her head no. "Talk on the phone?"

"If he calls at the appropriate time. My mother has a chart."

"Oh dear. Has it gotten worse?"

"Worse in some ways, better in others. I mean, I'm going out with Henry now, with my mother's approval, which is what really counts, right? She thinks it was all part of her own brilliant plan, and that she tricked me into liking him...which I have Lorelai to thank for-"

"And I believe you've thanked her every time you've seen her for the past two months."

"Have I? I'm just so happy about it I get a little overenthusiastic, I guess."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Hey, if you make fun of me, I'm going to make fun right back, so watch out."

"What do you have to make fun of me about?" Rory asks, unwrapping a small piece of chocolate that's supposed to look like Santa Claus.

"Your gushy eyed state of lovey-dovey ooey-gooey-ness, that's what."

"Please don't ever say those words again...please. That was disgusting." "How are you and Tristan doing, anway? I mean, really. Not in the I-pass-by-you-in-the-street-and-you-wave-hello-between-kisses-how-are-you-doing. I want the real story. I finally have you alone. We haven't seriously talked in awhile."

"We're doing...well," Rory smiles.

"Well? Rory, I need more information than that. I get to see Henry twice a week, supervised. Give me something to live off of here."

"He wants me to go to his family's ski lodge for winter break."

"With his family? Aren't they like, _Dynasty_ or something?"

"Yeah, they are. But they wouldn't exactly be coming with us."

"Who would, exactly...?" Lane presses on, smiling because she already knows the answer.

"No one. Besides us, I mean." She stops Lane from shrieking in excitement, quickly covering Lane's mouth with her hand. "There's no way I can even ask my mom to let me go. I'd have to be crazy. And part of me wouldn't want to miss all of our annual stuff anyway. It would be sad."

"It's just one year, Ror. A ski lodge? With Tristan? Think of it...big crackling fire...snow frosting the windows...Tristan holding you in his arms...toasting marshmallows and drinking eggnog..."

"Eggnog?"

"Okay, no, bad choice. Hot chocolate. Drinking hot chocolate...exchanging gifts..." Lane stops. "Rory, you know what all this means."

"Should I?"

"It's classic. It's the cover of some cheesy teen romance novel. Tristan wants to go to the lodge to...you know...I think he's trying to tell you he's ready."

"Lane, come on. We've both been ready for a long time now. We decided to wait. Don't blow things out of porportion."

"I don't think I am." Rory makes a face at Lane and throws a piece of candy at her.

"He just wants to get away, that's all. Do you know how nice it would be to have it just be us? It's rarely ever just us anymore. We're always being checked on by somebody."

"Hey, welcome to my world," Lane chuckles. "Isn't it fantastic?"

"I don't know how you deal with it, Lane."

"I'm a superhero, what can I say?"

"Wonder Woman?"

"No, I think Dr. Jean Grey. I'd love to be able to move things with my mind. Oo, and read other people's minds? That would rock."

"As long as you could control it. Would you want to know what Miss Patty is thinking?"

"Oh. God. Good point," Lane screws up her face in disgust. "You know whose mind I would like to read, though?"

"Whose?"

"Dean's."

"Oh..." Rory sighs. "Yeah, I guess I would like to read his mind too."

"I can't believe he's dating Tina Edwards. It makes me almost lose my faith in guys. I thought Dean was smart."

"He's still dating her, huh?"

"Yeah. And still avoiding you, right?"

"Ever since the market, whenever I see him, he won't even look at me," Rory frowns. "I deserve it."

"It's probably not even about _that_, Rory. He probably didn't see the condoms. He could very likely

just be avoiding you because you chose Tristan over him. And have been with him all over town, like all the time. That's more than enough reasons right there to not want to talk to you."

"Wow, Lane, that was so blunt you could have pulled an Annie and smashed my ankle with it."

"Ah, _Misery_. I still hate you for making me watch that, by the way. And I didn't mean to be so blunt, I just..."

"It's okay. It's true. That is probably it. And like I said, I do deserve it. I just wish I could talk to him. I feel like he doesn't understand how things really happened."

"Hence Tina Edwards. You know she went out with Greg Fenimore?"

"Poor Dean. I just hope he knows what he's getting into."

"It'll be very much like when Angela realized that Jordan went out with Cynthia Hargrove," Lane observes, nodding as if making a scientific report of a very important fact.

"Man, _My So-Called Life_ sounds so good right now. Especially the episode in the boiler room?"

"Oh, my favorite! Wait a second and I'll dig it out." Lane peeks out the slim crack in her closet doors, then throws them open wildly. She glances both ways, commando rolls across her hardwood floor, and hastily lifts a floorboard up from by her bed. Lifting a videotape from the secret compartment, she dashes back into her hideaway and closes the doors.

"Jordan Catalano, here we come."

"_Don't you love how he leans_?" Rory quotes, and both girls collapse into a fit of giggles.

* * *

"You know, Christmas is only two weeks away," Lorelai tells Luke as they walk mittened hand in hand down Main Street.

"Thanks for pointing that out."

"Not a lot of time left..."

"Not really, but it's not like it's tomorrow, either."

"Oh come on, Luke! Don't you even want a list from me? I have lots of ideas."

"No thanks, I'm all set," Luke waves her off. Lorelai frowns.

"What? You already did your shopping? Please don't tell me I'm getting cat potholders that meow."

"No potholders."

"And how did you already do your shopping? You hate shopping. And you always leave it until the last minute."

"Well this time I didn't."

"You realize that now I'm going to search the house from top to bottom and try to find it."

"What makes you think it's there?"

"Because, like, 87% of your stuff is there now. Why, is it in your apartment? Cause I'll search there too."

"How would you pull that off?"

"I have my ways."

"The only way you'd get into my apartment is if I was with you."

"You can't keep tabs on me at all times. I'm sneaky when it comes to present hunting. And I know where the spare key is. You showed me, remember?"

"Well, fine. But it's not in my apartment."

"Then where is it?" Lorelai whines, stopping at the corner to plead with him.

"You're like a three year old."

"And you're sixty. Must you suck the fun from the holidays?"

"Hey, I decorated the diner this year. I gave into that. What more do you want?"

"Luke, you put up maybe one sign and a few streamers. Even the Grinch would say 'Skimpy!'"

"If the Grinch were a gay interior designer, maybe."

"Well maybe he was. Dr. Seuss never really clarified that for us, did he? So it could swing that way, the options open."

"I think we should stop discussing the Grinch's sexuality."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"I know. And I don't know why," Luke opens the door to the diner and holds it as Lorelai walks inside.

"It's glorious. I love heat. I don't know how they all survived in that little house on the prairie," Lorelai says, plopping down on a stool as Luke goes behind the counter, taking off his jacket. "Especially with no five-star hotels around to go to at night."

Luke raises an eyebrow at her.

"_Troop Beverly Hills_? Forget it, it's lost on you. Where's Rory when you need her?"

"Playing kissy-face in the corner."

"What?" Luke gestures with his head as he begins writing something down on his notepad. Lorelai whips around and looks to the back corner of the diner, where her daughter is attached at the mouth to Tristan. She gets up and crosses the room.

"Hey. Ror."

Rory breaks away and looks up, frowning when she sees her mother standing there.

"I thought you were having a meeting with Lane about the Beat this evening?"

"Lane already came and went. We were just..." Rory stops, not sure what words to use.

"Lane was here," Kirk suddenly cuts in, swivelling around in his chair. "She left about ten minutes ago, which is when these two lovebirds here promptly began to show their mutual affection. No one seems worried by it save myself. I'm having some trouble keeping my dinner down."

"Thanks for that, Kirk."

"Glad I could be of help," Kirk nods and turns back around. Lorelai shoots a strange look at him and then refocuses on Rory and Tristan.

"Look, Ror, you guys can kiss all you want to, really. Go for it. But this is a public place and therefore perhaps not the best place for tongue, ya think?" Rory and Tristan both blush faintly and Rory shrinks back into her seat. "Okay, good. I'll be over there with Luke. I'll see you both later."

Rory and Tristan both nervously smile at one another as Lorelai walks away.

"I was expecting the riot act," Tristan admits.

"See, she is settling down," Rory says, taking a sip of her coffee. "I don't think she's as freaked out as she was."

"But she's still freaked."

"Yeah. But it is getting better!" Rory assures him hopefully. "And you know she does like you, despite the fact that I _really_ like you."

"Well I _really_ like you too," Tristan responds. "Did you think about break?"

"I did. And I was thinking...what if you spent the holidays here?"

"Here? Like in Stars Hollow here?"

"Yep," Rory chirps. Tristan doesn't respond immediately. "What? You don't think it's a good idea?"

"No, it's just...your mom's going to be okay with that?"

"I don't see why not...Sookie makes the best Christmas dinner in the entire world..." Rory pleads. "It'd be fantastic. Come on."

"I'll have to ask my parents...as a courtesy," Tristan clarifies. "But I'd like nothing better than to spend the holidays with you, Rory," he continues, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his.

"All you need here is a dripping candle and you two would be utterly sickening," Kirk cuts in again. They both look at him to find an annoyed and disgusted look upon his face.

"Sorry, Kirk. We'll stop," Rory grins. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Sure, let's go." Both of them stand, lifting their jackets from the back of their chairs. Tristan helps Rory on with hers and then puts on his own. "Many apologies, Kirk." Tristan nods to him as Rory shoves on her matching hat and gloves and heads for the door.

Kirk watches the pair leave and then looks down to his plate, making a face.

"I have completely lost my appetite."

* * *

"So, where to now?" Tristan asks as Rory slips her hand into his, stopping to breath in the crisp winter air.

"I love the smell of snow. Doesn't it make you want to just jump in it?"

"Not particularly," Tristan replies, laughing. "Though I have a feeling that's not going to stop you."

"Come on," Rory dashes off across the street toward the park, pulling him behind her. "It's great packing snow. You can't pass that up."

"I think you could," Tristan disagrees, frowning as Rory drops his hand and scoops up a large amount of snow in hers. She pounds and shapes it quickly as Tristan takes off toward the gazebo.

"Chicken! I wasn't going to throw it at you."

"I don't believe that at all."

"And with good reason," Lane chimes in. Tristan whirls around and sees Henry and Lane sitting on the bench inside the gazebo. "Hey."

"Hey, guys. Didn't mean to interrupt, sorry."

"Lane, Henry, hey!" Rory greets them as she runs up beside Tristan, her face flushed pink with cold.

"What are you two doing?"

"Sitting and talking, like respectable young adults should do," Lane informs her. "Not running around and having snowball fights. You could go to hell for that, you know."

"Lane's mother has agreed to let us sit in the park without an adult. It is too public for us to do anything inappropriate."

"That's never stopped us," Tristan states and Rory punches his arm lightly.

"She's still checking on us every half hour."

"Why are you wearing bright pink lipstick?" Rory asks, puzzled. Henry laughs and Lane groans.

"Mama made me."

"Your mother made you wear lipstick? Is the apocalypse tonight?"

"So she can tell if Henry and I have been kissing," Lane groans, burying her face in her hands. "It is so embarrassing."

"Henry knows you're worth it. Don't you, Henry?" Rory looks to him, holding up her snowball as a threatening device.

"Yes, I most definitely do," Henry smiles. Rory crushes the snowball back into loose snow.

"Good," she replies, then pauses.

A second later Tristan yelps, jumping up and down and wincing.

"Rory!" The three others burst into laughter as Rory pulls her hand away from the collar of his jacket, having just dumped all the snow down his back. "You're so gonna get it."

"Oh no," Rory backs away slowly, then whirls around and takes off.

"Yes you are!" Tristan yells after her, quickly in pursuit.

"I guess I'm lucky your mom is checking on us. You can't do that to me," Henry teases. Exactly at that moment, a huge snowball hits him right in the side of the head, covering his jet black hair in powdery white. Lane bursts into hysterical laughter as Rory runs up, looking horrified.

"I am so sorry, Henry. I didn't mean to hit you."

"It's okay, Rory," Henry assures her, brushing off his hair and face and smiling. Lane is still laughing. Henry grabs a fistful of snow from the railing of the gazebo and dumps it on her head. Rory starts laughing now, as Lane spits out flakes of snow that had fallen into her mouth.

"You know, Mama's not back for fifteen minutes," Lane states, getting up. "You better run."

"Oh hell," Henry mutters, taking off. Rory and Lane exchange triumphant grins and Lane runs off after her boyfriend.

Rory watches her run away. Her momentary peace is ended abruptly as a snowball hits her square in the back. She turns to look for Tristan but he has already taken cover. She walks in the direction that the snowball had come from, treading carefully as to not fall victim to an ambush.

Tiptoeing between two large oaks, Rory spots Tristan across the path, peering around the corner of some hedges. Knowing he hasn't seen her, she sneaks around the other way and comes up behind him.

"Gotcha!" She exclaims as she tackles him playfully, sending him reeling backward onto the ground. She lands on top of him with a thud, all snow and giggles.

"No, I got you," Tristan retorts, rolling her over easily and pinning her to the ground.

"Oh really?" Rory challenges, flipping him over once again.

"Okay, you've won this battle. But not the war," he warns her jokingly, touching her pink nose with his snowy, gloved finger. They fall silent, catching their breath as they comfortably remain entangled with one another on the ground. Tristan watches Rory's face, her eyes dancing wildly from the excitement of the chase, her cheeks flushed red, her long hair messy and windblown. Reaching up, he takes off her knit hat and pulls her face down toward his.

Rory's mind reels. She doesn't know why. Maybe it is his ice cold lips slowly warming up against hers. Or perhaps it's their hands clumsily trying to caress one another through their snow-logged gloves. It could once again be the magic of softly falling snow, the Gilmore's very own good luck charm. But whatever the reason, this simple kiss, outwardly not strikingly different than any other kiss they had shared, changed something, somewhere, within Rory. She wanted nothing more than to be laying on the floor in front of some cheeseball crackling fire, making love to Tristan in that perfect, romantic way that is probably nothing like the real thing. At that moment she didn't care that she and Tristan had agreed not to rush things, that she had convinced herself that though she wanted to, having sex was not a good idea.

Right then it seemed like a very good idea.

"I wish we could've gone skiing," Rory murmurs as Tristan's lips leave hers. Tristan laughs lightly.

"But you don't like sports."

"Look how much fun we're having right now, here in the snow. Skiing means more snow. Therefore it seems like a sport that I could learn to pretend to enjoy," Rory explains, smiling as he grins up at her, amused at her answer.

"I wish we were going there too, Ror," Tristan replies, kissing her earlobe lightly as he pulls her close once more. "I want you..." He whispers huskily into her ear. "I want you so badly, sometimes I feel like I'm not going to be able to take it. You were sitting in class yesterday, and you were chewing on your eraser..." Tristan kisses behind her ear, then down her jawline, his tongue darting out to capture a snowflake that has landed upon her ivory skin. "You can't even imagine how much I wanted to peel off that annoying Chilton blazer, unbutton that silly blouse...and your skirt...Rory, your skirt..." Tristan trails off, opening his eyes to make sure that Rory's are closed.

In an instant he has flipped her over again, pinning her back down to the ground.

"Hey!" Rory cries out, immediately slapping his chest. "You can't do that."

"I told you the war was far from over."

"You didn't say that exactly. And using unfair methods is unacceptable. There are rules of engagement, you know."

"I didn't break any rules," Tristan responds, triumphant. "I was merely telling you what I was thinking yesterday in class. Can I help it if you got distracted? Distraction, misdirection...aren't these the tools of military strategy?"

"And that would make you...what? A military expert? World-renowned general?"

"Oh, of course. I'm just like Alexander the Great," Tristan grins. Rory laughs, shoving him off of her.

"Or Napoleon."

"Hey! I take offense to that," Tristan remarks as Rory clambers up from the ground. He grabs her hand to pull himself up.

"What? Napoleon was a _great_ general."

"And also short, in more ways than one. I do not have Little Man Syndrome."

"Then why do you have that sports car? Some say that the need for speed is a macho thing directly related to the overcompensation-"

"I have a sports car because that's just how it is. There's no reason behind it. It could easily be a Volvo," Tristan states matter-of-factly. Rory takes his hand as they walk across the street, heading toward home.

"Oh, so you'd trade in your Camaro for a Volvo?"

Tristan pauses, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay. So maybe I wouldn't. But you've seen my car, Rory. Would you ever trade that for anything?"

"Waterloo! Finally facing my Waterloo!" Rory sings, doing a little dance on the sidewalk.

"Do I hear ABBA?" Miss Patty appears in the doorway to her dance studio. A dozen or so small girls dressed in glittery eskimo suits are huddled in the middle of the dance floor, trying to dance.

"Sorry, Miss Patty, I was just making a point here with Tristan about-"

"Tristan, darling! Long time no see," Miss Patty coos, stepping down from the entrance. "My, my, it is cold out here today. Perhaps you wouldn't mind coming inside and helping us all warm up, would you?"

"Rory and I were actually just heading home, Miss Patty. I'm sorry. Besides, I wouldn't want to disrupt your class," Tristan declines graciously. Miss Patty glances back toward her little dancers.

"Oh, them? Dear, they're just practicing acting cold. I want to give their winter dance routine some feeling, some emotion. I figured keeping the door open for a few minutes or so should help get them into tip top shape."

"And garner a few concerned phone calls," Rory points out. Miss Patty chuckles and waves her off.

"Only Taylor cares about that. We're building character here, we're building talent! These little girls are going to be ballerinas!" Miss Patty throws up one hand dramatically. "They'll all thank me someday." She turns back to Tristan. "You know, this one used to take lessons from me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Poor little thing. Everyone told her she had two left feet...I think she was talented. You could've been great," She sighs deeply. "I still wish I hadn't failed you, dearie."

"Don't worry, Miss Patty. Tristan dances well enough for the both of us," Rory says. Miss Patty smiles widely, clearly getting ready to coo over Tristan once again.

"Don't I know it. He could be the next Fred Astaire."

"I hardly think that knowing a few dance steps qualifies that comparison..."

"Honey, in this day and age? Men who dance are few and far between. Us ladies take what we can get, right Rory?" Miss Patty states. "Now, come here and give me a waltz."

"We really have to-"

"Oh, you can dance one, Tristan. We're not in a big hurry," Rory says. Tristan gives her a questioning look, wondering why she's doing this to him. "Waterloo! Finally facing my Waterloo!" She sings again, giving them both a glimpse at her disco skills. Miss Patty shudders.

"My greatest regret," she murmurs, taking Tristan's hand and leading him inside. He shoots Rory one last pleading look and she giggles. Rory watches as Miss Patty leads Tristan out onto the dance floor, interuppting the young girls' attempts at shivering musically, then walks inside after the pair. "Girls, girls, do we have a special treat tonight. This is our young Mr. DuGrey, and he's going to show you all how to dance, and better yet, *why* we learn to dance. You won't understand the second reason now, girls, but someday you will. Now..." She grabs Tristan's hands and unexpectedly jerks him toward her. "Let's tango."

Rory laughs, amused, and is about to interject and try to save Tristan from this misery when her cell phone rings. Quickly she lifts the flap of her coat pocket and digs it out, fumbling to hit the right button with her mittened finger.

"Hello?" The phone keeps ringing; Rory tries the button again. "Hello?"

"Rory, hey!" Her father's voice comes in after a second of static. "I finally caught you."

"I can't hear you, wait one second," Rory says, making a gesture toward Tristan to tell him she'll be right back. Covering her other ear to smother out the giggling girls, Rory heads for the door.

Once outside, she takes a deep breath and then speaks. "Dad. Hey."

"Hey, you. I thought maybe you fell off the face of the planet."

"No, I'm still here," Rory sighs. "How are you?"

"I've been better. How are you?"

"Great." Her voice is tense and clipped.

"And your mom?"

"Never better," Rory states. She can hear her father sigh now.

"Listen, Rory, I'm sorry about what happened with me and your mom. It was a mistake, I know it. But I can't go back and undo what I did."

"Do you know what you did, Dad? Do you really?" Rory inquires, leaning against the wall of the dance studio. The warmth from inside is beginning to wear off, her winter jacket not quite enough to keep her from feeling the cold. "Because you always do this. You always wait until she's happy and then come back and try to mess everything up."

"I didn't mean to come back and mess everything up, Rory. You know that," Chris states. She can hear the frown in his voice. "That was never my intention. You know how I feel about your mother better than anyone, Rory. Probably better than she does. I was just trying to make her understand. Please don't punish me for this."

"If you really love her that much, Dad, just let her be happy with Luke. She loves him," Rory tells her dad, pausing for a moment before continuing. "And I love him too." Rory lets out another long sigh, her breath turning to fog in the air. "That doesn't mean that he's taking your place."

"It's hard to remember that sometimes, Ror. Especially when you've stopped calling me. It's been two months and I've heard like two words from the both of you."

"We're angry."

"Clearly."

"Dad..."

"Rory, I know you have a right to be. What I did, coming back there like that...it was immature. But I don't think I deserve to lose you over this. Or your mom."

"You're not going to lose me. Just...it's hard to talk to you right now. And it's even harder for Mom."

"I know. Would you tell her I'm sorry? About everything?"

"I'll tell her, Dad. I won't guarantee she'll listen, but I'll tell her."

"Cause I'd like to be invited to the wedding."

"The wedding?"

"When she and Luke get married. I'd really like to be there for that."

"Have you been talking to Grandma?"

"No, why? They're not already engaged, are they?" Chris is obviously panic-stricken at the thought of it happening so soon.

"No..." Rory laughs lightly. "It's just Grandma seems to think that they are. She's making Mom crazy."

"That's Emily. She wouldn't be a Gilmore if she wasn't making someone crazy," Chris chuckles.

"Speaking of making someone crazy, I left Tristan alone with Miss Patty. I should go and rescue him before it's too late."

"Still Tristan, huh? How is that going?"

"Really great," Rory smiles, turning and glancing through the open door to the studio. Miss Patty is trying to get Tristan to dip her; his body looks strained from trying to hold her up. "Fantastic, actually."

"That's good to hear. Has Lorelai mellowed?"

"A little. Tristan's going to spend Christmas with us."

"Really?" The surprise is evident. "That serious?"

"His family takes off to England and leaves him here. I couldn't stand the thought of him having Christmas alone."

"Ah, the upper-class holidays. My parents used to go off skiing and leave me with the nanny," Christopher recalls. "What did your mother have to say about Tristan staying?"

"I haven't actually asked her yet," Rory grimaces. "But I don't see why she wouldn't let him stay with us. She sympathizes with him about his family. It's the one thing they have in common."

"Well, besides loving you," Chris points out. "But the whole world loves you, so that's not too particular."

"Dad..."

"Well you better go save him before Miss Patty decides to keep him."

"Yeah, he looks very frightened right now."

"I love you, Rory. Have a good night."

"You too."

"Please call?"

"I will."

"And tell Lorelai what I said?"

"I will, Dad."

"Good-night, sweetheart."

"Good-night," Rory clicks off the phone and goes inside to retrieve her boyfriend from Miss Patty's clutches.

* * *

"I don't think Versace is the right answer to that question, Louise. I don't think he's even mentioned in this entire book about the Renaissance, as a matter of fact. Unless you were reading the Cosmo account of it, that is."

"Frankie says Relax, Paris," Louise responds, looking closely at a chip in her nail polish.

"I like Versace," Madeleine chimes in perkily, earning her a disturbed look from Louise and a glare from Paris. Rory walks into the library and sets her book bag down on the chair next to Paris'. Paris looks up, relieved.

"Finally! Someone who uses their brain for a purpose other than to decide if mint green is a classier color than olive green."

"Excuse me?"

"Olive green is classier, right?" Louise asks Rory. Rory is just puzzled.

"Sure, I suppose so..."

"They've been debating this for the past half hour. Where have you been?" Paris demands, frustrated.

"Where I'd be if I had a boyfriend like Tristan," Louise theorizes slyly, her voice dripping with insinuations.

"I had to talk to Mary about something, I'm sorry."

"Sure you did," Louise says, nodding knowingly. Madeleine smiles along with her.

"What, something about your little paper?" Paris inquires.

"Hey. Friends now? Remember?" Rory points out. Paris shrugs. "And as a matter of fact, it was. We're putting out a special issue this week, about the best music to study to."

"Classical. Helps you concentrate," Paris states. "And speaking of studying, why don't we do some? Or is that too crazy of an idea?"

"I heard Matthew Tomlinson is having an end of exams/Christmas party next week. We should all go," Madeleine chirps.

"And you're two year olds," Paris throws her pencil down on the table.

"Matthew Tomlinson is getting gorgeous...I think he's working out..." Louise grins, lickiing her lips.

"Guys, maybe we should focus," Rory interrupts, seeing the vein on Paris' forehead start to stick out.

"What a novel idea! After all, exams start in a week!" Paris adds. Louise and Madeleine exchange looks that agree it's time to behave or Paris will have their wardrobes set on fire.

"What have you guys been working on?" Rory asks, pulling out her huge history textbook and thick binder and setting them on the table.

"We were trying to start with the Renaissance and work our way forward. So we're still at the Renaissance, naturally, since Patsy and Edina here couldn't stop-"

"Okay, so, Renaissance. I made flash cards last night."

"Me too," Paris holds hers up. Louise snorts.

"You two seriously need to get out of the house more often."

"Forgive me if I don't think that following J. Lo's fashion choices is more important than college, Louise. I don't know how you stand being around me," Paris snaps.

"It's a hard job but someone has to do it," Louise shoots back, digging out a nail file from her overstuffed purse. "And really it's not you who surprises me. It's Rory," she gives Rory a knowing look. "I would think that with dating Tristan, she wouldn't have _time_ to study…"

"Well we study together," Rory replies, purposely choosing to ignore Louise's innuendo. Madeleine doesn't pick up on Rory's attempt at naiveté.

"I think Louise meant that you two _don't_ study, that you-"

"She got it, Lucy. Ethel here is pretty obvious," Paris interjects. "Now, if you two aren't going to take this seriously, would you please leave?"

"You mean we don't have to stay here?" Louise asks, surprised. Obviously Paris had dragged them to the study session against their will.

"Mall?" Madeleine suggests.

"Totally," Louise replies. The two girls gather up their things hurriedly, as if trying to make up for lost time. "See you, Paris."

"Bye Rory!" Madeleine waves as the pair dashes out of the library, earning a few annoyed looks from other students.

"Unbelievable," Paris snorts, flipping through her flashcards. "The two of them will rue the day when their rejection letters come in the mail. Do you think they know how to accessorize the _small _envelope?"

"I'm sure they'll be fine. And if they aren't, it's not your fault," Rory shrugs. "You can't control what they do."

"Oh, no, believe me, I don't feel responsible for them. I'm just completely dismayed at their lack of regard for their own education, that's all."

"Speaking of education, you want to…" Rory taps her notebook, and Paris nods.

"Do you feel adequately prepared for the Renaissance period? Because in all honesty, I feel like I'm more rusty on the specifics of the Reformation. We kind of breezed through that in class."

"Yeah, I thought that too. We could come back to the Renaissance later, after we do everything else?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. Let me get out my notes," Paris pulls out another huge binder from her bag. "History, volume 2."

"You have two binders for this class?"

"Three. Over the weekends I do further research into the topics discussed during the week and add my findings to the notes taken in class. I've discovered that doing so improves my test scores by 5 points."

"Paris…maybe Louise is right. Maybe you do need to get out of the house…" Rory says, a bit concerned. Paris rolls her eyes.

"Look, I realize that high school is supposed to be the time of your life, like it's supposed to be 90210 or something where the main concern is who slept with who at whose party last Friday, but that's not what I'm interested in. I'd rather concentrate on getting into Harvard and save my fun for after I graduate, when I can travel Europe and meet some fabulous French man named Mathieu who thinks that my serious nature and utter brilliance is the sexiest thing he's ever seen. And I think that's far better than going to some kegger. Believe me, I can be patient and wait a few years."

"You could have both," Rory suggests meekly, knowing Paris is just going to disagree. "You could have the excellent grades and the fun too. It doesn't have to be one or the other…"

"We can't all be you, Rory. I don't know how you can handle Tristan and maintain your average," Paris mutters. "God I hate you."

"Gee, thanks."

"I don't really," Paris sighs, putting her pencil down onto the table with a click. There is a moment of silence before Paris picks her pencil back up, looking at Rory timidly. "How are things going, anyway? With you and Tristan?"

"Weren't you just yelling at Louise and Madeleine for this?" Rory asks, laughing.

"They just want to know for gossip purposes. So they can dish with Mindy or Biffy or whoever over cappuccinos later tonight. I want to know because we're friends. Or whatever we are."

"We're friends, I guess," Rory says. "We have managed not to get in a fight for two months now."

"That's got to be some kind of a record, right?"

"I think so."

"So…?"

"So…" Rory doesn't know what Paris wants to hear.

"Rory, I know you have Lane and Mary to tell this stuff to, all right? But I have to listen to Louise and Madeleine list off the boys they made out with like they're reading shopping lists. I need someone of substance to assure me that _that_ is not romance."

"It's not," Rory smiles.

"And I also need to know that Tristan is…" Paris trails off, not sure how to put it. Rory remembers Paris' past ultimatum and knows what she's trying to say.

"Tristan is perfect, Paris. His grades are up, the paper is doing well, and he's spending Christmas with my family instead of home alone."

"He's spending Christmas with you?" Paris inquires, surprised.

"Yeah…"

"Wow. So you two are pretty serious."

"My dad said the same thing when I told him. I didn't really think about it in terms of seriousness. I just thought we should spend Christmas together."

"A major holiday spent with family is considered serious, Rory."

"I considered us serious before...is this a whole new level of seriousness?" Rory asks, half-joking.

"It is," Paris responds sternly. "And you know, what I told you before? It still applies," she warns.

"I know, Paris," Rory assures Paris solemnly. "And I don't have any intention of hurting him."

"Nobody ever has the intention..." Paris mutters, half under her breath. She pauses, looking as if she's contemplating something."And if he hurts you…I'll never let him forget it either. I don't let people hurt my friends," Paris tells Rory, who nods, smiling lightly at Paris' promise.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. But thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"You know, Tristan or Henry probably have some good friends that they could set you up with…if you wanted..."

"Okay, when 'girl talk' turns into pity dating, it's time to stop." Paris halts the conversation. "Back to the Reformation."

"Got it," Rory nods, opening up her binder.

"None of their friends would want to date me anyway," Paris adds.

"Oh, that's not true-"

"Besides, Tristan barely sees his friends anyway…he's always with you…" Paris points out.

"He's not *always* with me. You make it sound like I've been holding him captive."

"Don't get upset about it. Tristan's friends were jerks anyway. He's much better off with all of you guys as his crowd anyway," Paris explains. Rory frowns; she wasn't so confident Paris was right. "But like I said. Enough chit chat. Back to work."

"Right. Back to work," Rory agrees, though she isn't sure she'll be able to focus now.

* * *

"What is it today?" Lorelai asks as she enters the Inn's kitchen.

"It's just strawberry pancakes with homemade whipped cream," Sookie shrugs.

"You're evil," Lorelai states, popping a forkful into her mouth and then sighing. "And heavenly…"

"Is it all right if I take off half an hour early today, Lorelai?"

"Sure. Dare I ask why?"

"Jackson is going to take me to Hartford for dinner…" Sookie tells Lorelai, smiling happily. "Then we're going to go to the gourmet market and buy ingredients to make breakfast for tomorrow…I'm thinking poached eggs…my grandmother had this wonderful recipe and I think maybe if I had some fresh cilantro to the mix, it might-"

"That sounds really great, Sookie. Only you two could make a date out of going grocery shopping."

"I know, isn't it fantastic?" Sookie says. "I'm looking forward to Christmas this year. I'll actually have someone to share it with!"

"Hey!" Lorelai exclaims. "What about me and Rory? We always do Christmas together."

"Oh, you know what I mean, pumpkin. I usually break down in tears over the sugar cookies because I don't have anyone to help me frost them-"

"And then you call me, blubbering, and I come over and help you until you tell me I'm decorating them too messily and take the frosting away from me?"

"Well, honey, you do. And you never use the right color sprinkles."

"I never got the sprinkles memo when I was growing up. If you have Jackson help you this year, you might want to lay off on the whole decorating Nazi thing. I don't think most men find obsessive-compulsive cookie decorating to be very attractive. Especially after you force him to wear an apron and act like Martha Stewart in the first place."

"Maybe having Jackson help me isn't such a good idea?" Sookie wavers.

"Oh, he's a strong boy. And if he hasn't figured out how crazy you are yet, Christmas is the perfect time to make that discovery, isn't it?"

"I guess so," Sookie giggles. "Now are you and Rory coming over for dinner this year?"

"Of course we are. What else would we do? Try to cook ourselves?"

"Not after you set your kitchen on fire when Rory was ten."

"I only singed a little bit," Lorelai protests. "I don't know what that towel was doing so close to the stove anyway. I think it got up and walked over there on its own. And why wouldn't we come? We always come."

"I don't know. I thought maybe you and Luke were doing something this year. I didn't want to make any assumptions. Should I count him in for my house, then?"

"Eehhh, I actually haven't broached the subject with him yet," Lorelai says, setting down her plate of pancakes and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," Lorelai responds.

"I can't imagine him wanting to spend Christmas anywhere except with you," Sookie says, nudging Lorelai in the ribs and almost making her spill her coffee.

"We just haven't made any actual plans yet. To assume that he wanted to do what I wanted to do…I mean, I'm coming to your house no matter what. It's our tradition. But…"

"Oh I see."

"What do you see?" Lorelai asks, alarmed.

"'Our tradition', huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're freaking out because Luke is going to become part of it."

"I don't think so."

"Well think about it, Lorelai. Up until now, what has really changed?"

"What do you mean, what's changed?"

"Luke doesn't come to Friday night dinners. He stays over at your place but still has his own apartment. Your lives are still separate. You make plans for Christmas and suddenly your and Rory's plans become his plans too."

"Sook, Luke always comes to Christmas dinner at your house."

"Ah, but you usually show up at the diner Christmas day, an hour before dinner and beg him to come with. You never plan ahead."

"You are reading way too much into this. We just haven't talked about _actual_ plans yet. It's not some symptom of my commitment phobia or whatever it is you're thinking. Luke's the most *in my life* that a guy has ever been!"

"Which is exactly my point. He's the biggest risk you've ever taken."

"Are you _trying_ to freak me out, Sookie? Cause five minutes ago I was totally cool. There's no need to get me worked up over something I wasn't even concerned about."

"I'm not trying to get you worked up, Lorelai. I honestly thought you were maybe, kinda, freaking out, on the inside. But it's clear that you aren't, and I made a mistake. I am very sorry," Sookie apologizes, re-filling Lorelai's cup of coffee. Lorelai looks at her best friend, her blue eyes shooting daggers.

"As well you should be. Cause to tell you the truth, I am not worried about this commitment thing with Luke!" Lorelai takes her cup of coffee and walks out of the kitchen. Sookie winces, turning around and shutting an open drawer behind her. Her fingers get in the way and she yelps in pain. She shakes out her hand, wincing.

"Would someone please stop me the next time I do that?"

"What, shut your hand in the drawer or put your foot in your mouth?" One of her dessert chefs asks.

"Either or," Sookie shouts as she leaves the kitchen, angry with herself for upsetting her best friend.

* * *

Lorelai throws herself onto the couch next to her daughter, letting her head fall into Rory's lap. Her purse drops to the floor as Lorelai kicks off her high heels with an exhausted groan.

"What _is it_ with people today?" She whines, tugging on the bottom of Rory's shirt in an effort to let her know she wants a bite of the cookie dough ice cream that she is eating. "Why are Ben and Jerry here? You have a bad day too?"

"No," Rory responds, though from the look on her face Lorelai can tell she's lying.

"All right then, neither did I. My day was great," Lorelai sits up, stealing the spoon from Rory. "It started off with Michel whining about his breakfast, then went on to Sookie accusing me of being a commitment-phobe just because I haven't invited Luke to Christmas dinner yet-"

"We always drag him there on Christmas day!" Rory interjects.

"Thank you!" Lorelai exclaims. "Sookie thought that now that we're dating, things should be different. Should things be different?"

"I don't know. I guess I originally thought things would be different, but right now I don't see why they have to be."

"You really thought things would be different?"

"I just thought we probably wouldn't have to beg him to come, that's all," Rory remarks, taking the spoon back. "Apart from Sookie playing Dr. Phil, what else went wrong?"

"Oh, about a billion things. Leak in the lobby bathroom, towel delivery was three hours late, a guest in 4C didn't remove the chocolate mint before going to sleep last night and woke up with chocolate face and said it was my fault...you name it, it happened."

"Someone actually did that?"

"You wouldn't think it possible, but it is. People are that stupid. So how come your day sucked? Or, excuse me, didn't suck?"

"All right, mine sucked too."

"Why?"

"Nothing really," Rory shrugs, frown lines creasing her face. "Paris just said something that kind of bothered me."

"When does she not?"

"No, I mean really got to me. She said that Tristan doesn't see any of his friends anymore because he's always with me."

"So?"

"Is that true?"

"Probably. You two are attached at the hip and lip, almost 24/7."

"Does that mean all of his friends hate me? Am I that girlfriend who just steps in and takes away the guy from the guys group?" Rory asks as Lorelai once again liberates the spoon from her grasp.

"Rory, I have never once heard Tristan mention any friends besides Lane, Henry, and Mary. Occasionally Paris, but it's not usually a glowing review. He's not missing them, why should you be worried about it? He obviously wasn't too attached to them."

"I just never wanted to be that girl."

"Who, Marlo Thomas?"

"No, that girl who is never seen without her boyfriend. I never wanted to be Rory n' Tristan, as one inseparable entity. But now it seems like wherever I go, someone is always asking me about him or where he is or what I was just doing with him-"

"Hey, what *were* you just doing with him?" Lorelai asks.

"Mom..." Rory sighs.

"Rory, you're not _that girl_. You and Tristan are still relatively new at this relationship thing. Granted, it usually wears off after a few weeks, but it's normal. It's perfectly fine for you to be with him and be thinking about him. That's how the beginning of a relationship is. And naturally everyone is going to be interested. Wouldn't you be? If you saw some perfectly beautiful couple such as Tristan and yourself waltzing around school in a lovesick haze for almost three months? It's high school. People have nothing better to do with their lives." Lorelai hits the bottom of the pint and looks at Rory. "You got anything else besides cookie dough?"

"One Sweet Whirled is in the freezer."

"Atta girl," Lorelai climbs up off the couch and heads to the kitchen. "I mean, you've seen firsthand how wrapped up this town is in Luke and me. Do you think Luke and I are unhealthy?"

"No," Rory says. She can hear the freezer open and shut, and the clink of silverware. Lorelai re-enters the living room with a new pint and a spoon for herself.

"Dig in," She lifts off the lid and hands the container to her daughter. "And if Tristan's high school years have been anything like my high school years were? Trust me. He was dying to leave his friends behind. You were probably a godsend."

"You really think that?"

"Rory. Can you name even _one _of his supposed friends?"

"Um..." Rory screws up her face, trying to remember. "I think one was named Ryan or Brian or something."

"Exactly," Lorelai states. "Did he ever introduce you?"

"No..."

"Ever sit with them in lunch?"

"No..."

"Then you really think he misses these people? Rory, come on. Tristan and you started your own circle. What's wrong with it being Henry, Lane, Mary, Paris, Tristan and you? It could be worse."

"I didn't mean that that was bad...I just didn't want to be keeping Tristan back from something."

"And you're freaking out about this because of something _Paris_ said off-hand?"

"So? You were upset because of something Sookie said..."

"Sookie? Best friend for like 15 years. Paris? Sworn enemy who wanted to have you killed until a few months ago. Who is the crazy one here?"

"You think I'm really worked up about nothing?"

The phone rings at that moment and Lorelai reaches over and picks it up from the floor beside the coffee table.

"Hello?" Lorelai grins, holding the phone out to Rory. "Totally worked up over nothing." She takes the pint of ice cream from Rory in exchange for the phone.

"Hello?" Rory asks, smiling when she hears Tristan's voice over the line.

"I'd like to get you worked up about something," Tristan murmurs huskily into the phone as Rory walks to her bedroom.

"Oh you would?" Rory asks, closing her bedroom door. "What something would that be?"

"It's a secret. If you're a really good girl, maybe I'll tell you."

"Oo, secrets. I love secrets. They are, however, better when I'm in on them."

"Then why don't you come over and get in on it?" Tristan teases. Rory plops down onto her bed, laying on her back and laying her head on one of her overstuffed pillows. She breathes in deeply, smiling.

"I'd love to," Rory murmurs, then pauses. "But you know I can't." The line is silent for a second and Rory sighs. "You know, my pillows smell like you."

"Is that a good thing?" Tristan asks. "I hope you're not trying to drop me a subtle hint here."

"That really wouldn't have been too subtle. But I meant it smells like your cologne, and your shampoo...and whatever else it is that smells like you. I like it. It makes me always think about you before I go to sleep..." Rory laughs at herself. "God, that sounded so corny it could've been made into a flake."

"It wasn't Kellogg...I happen to like the idea of you thinking about me when you're in bed," Tristan replies. "Cause that's what I do."

"Think of yourself while you're in bed? Tristan, I know your ego is larger than most, but come on," Rory jokes.

"Well, concentrating on myself does kind of come along with thinking of you at night," Tristan tells her, his meaning clear. Rory blushes deeply, naughty images flying into her mind all at once.

"Tristan..."

"What?" He asks innocently.

"You know what."

"Sorry," he says. "You get to me. I can't help it." Tristan hesitates, unsure whether or not to ask the question. "Don't I get to you?"

"Tristan..." Rory picks lint off of her sweater, the conversation beginning to make her self-conscious.

"Forget I asked, I shouldn't have," Tristan replies quickly. Talking sex over the phone with him was something Rory clearly wasn't comfortable with.

"You do get to me, Tristan. You do. All the time. I just..." Rory stops, awkward. She sits up in her bed, adjusting her pillows behind her body so she can lean comfortably against the headboard.

"You want to come over?" Tristan asks.

"We have a practice exam on Monday. I have to study."

"We can study together."

"You know we can't."

"We do it all the time."

"We do not."

"Then what do you call that crazy thing we do where we sit in your room with our text books and read?"

"I call that the two minutes before I start kissing you or you start kissing me-"

"We don't always-"

"Or whatever either of us does that leads to us making out. I can't afford to be distracted, I have to concentrate. I mean, studying with Paris always reminds me exactly how ill-prepared I am...I have a lot of work to do."

"Okay," Tristan backs off, sensing she means business. Rory looks over at the huge stack of books sitting on her desk, just waiting to be cracked open. Rory turns Tristan's words over and over in her head. wishing he hadn't brought up their sex life - or lack thereof, more importantly. How can she possibly study Moliere when all she can think about is how fantastic it would be to be with Tristan? To be close to him, laying together on his huge king size bed in his mohagany-walled room, completely alone? Of course, it would inevitably end with one of them stopping the other before it went too far, but everything before that moment were always so... "Rory?" Tristan asks, wondering why her end of the line is silent. "You there?"

"I'll be there in half an hour," Rory states and then simply hangs up. Looking around her room like a guilty thief, she hesitates a moment before climbing off of her bed. "Shit..." she mutters under her breath, wondering why her self-control disappeared whenever Tristan came into the picture. She gathers all of her textbooks and notes quickly and stuffs them into her bag and heads out of her bedroom. "Mom?"

"Living room!" She calls.

"I'm going to meet Tristan to study, is that okay?"

Lorelai looks up at Rory as she leans over the back of the couch. Lorelai sits up from her comfortable position and raises her eyebrows at her daughter.

"Why can't he come here?"

"He always comes here," Rory states.

"Why buck the trend?" Lorelai asks.

"Mom, please?"

"Is there going to be an adult there?"

"George and Antoine will."

"You call his parents by their first names?"

"No, that's the butler and the maid," Rory explains.

"The butler and the maid? Comforting if you were playing _Clue_, but not so helpful in this situation."

"There's not a butler in _Clue_," Rory responds. "And they're adults, aren't they?"

"Not adults who will stop you from being Miss Scarlet!" Lorelai points out. "And I could've sworn there was a butler in _Clue_. Who the hell was Mr. Green then?"

"Not the butler."

"I bet he was the gardener."

"That makes sense with his name, yes. So can I go?"

"Rory, I don't know," Lorelai shakes her head. Rory sets her book bag down on the floor, realizing this is going to take a longer effort.

"Mom, I promise that we're going to study. I have exams next week, I'm not about to blow off studying. Tristan needs help with English, I said I'd help him. It'll be good review," Rory tells her. It wasn't entirely a lie; Tristan did say in lunch the other day he would appreciate some help reviewing. "You need to trust me."

"I do, Ror, it's just..." Lorelai meets Rory's eyes, wavering between saying yes or no. "Okay."

"Okay?" Rory grins, leaning down and throwing her arms around her mother's neck. "Thank you so much!"

"You're very lucky my worst fear is becoming Grandma..." Lorelai says, patting Rory's back affectionately as the hug continues.

"I really appreciate this, Mom. Tristan will too." Rory pulls away and picks up her backpack. She heads for the door as Lorelai quickly rises from the couch.

"Why will Tristan appreciate this?" Lorelai asks, alarmed. Rory stops and turns back around, shooting her mom an unamused look.

"I just meant that you watching him almost every moment we're together made him feel a little uneasy, that's all. He thought you hated him for awhile there. He couldn't stand you disapproving."

"Oh. I never hated him...exactly..." Lorelai shrugs, looking sheepish. "I don't hate him. I'm just worried about you is all."

"I know. And thanks. But can I go now?"

"Yes..." Lorelai picks up the keys from the table in the foyer and tosses them to Rory. "Put gas in the Jeep and be careful driving. Home by 11."

"Love you, Mom," Rory chirps as she dashes out the door.

"Love you too," Lorelai replies as the door closes. She stares at the closed door for a few seconds, tempted to go after Rory and take it all back. Straightening her back, she returns to the living room with resolve to relax. Two paces past the telephone she whirls around and grabs it, dialing frantically.

"Luke! Luke! Are you there? Pick up!" She says anxiously into his answering machine. "Okay...you must still be downstairs. When you get upstairs, call me back. As soon as you can. I let Rory go study at Tristan's house alone. And there's only the maid and the butler there - their names are George and Antoine, I don't think I can trust them - and she's there, unsupervised...I mean, she's unsupervised with him at school everyday, but what can they do in school? This is Tristan's *house*. A big house. It's bigger than my parents' house. Actually I've never been there, I'm just assuming. But call me when you get this. Please." She hangs up, perturbed. She hits redial.

"Luke, it's me again. Forget that last message. Rory's a big girl, I trust her. She knows what's right. I shouldn't freak out just because she's studying over there. She's seventeen, I gotta start letting go. So...like I said, just forget that last call. It's like the _Wizard of Oz_...just ignore the man behind the curtain. He has no idea what he's doing. But still call me when you get in. I miss you."

Lorelai click off on the phone again, looking slightly more at ease. She goes to put the phone back in the charger, but pauses, thinking maybe her original worries were well-founded. Her thumb goes to the on button, but she stops herself. "Just go watch tv." She sets the phone down cautiously as if handling a time bomb and hurries back to the couch. She picks up the remote and changes the channel. Her eyes widen as she watches Pacey and Joey strip one another down on a repeat of _Dawson's Creek_. "Ok, television off." She throws the remote away from her like a dangerous, disgusting spider.

"Teenagers suck." With this revelation, she flops back onto the couch, covering her face with a pillow.

_To be continued..._

_

* * *

  
_


	17. C Plus

_Chapter Seventeen: C+_

Rory stares at the top of her English test in dismay, the red letter burning into her retinas as horribly as if she had been staring into a solar eclipse.

C+. She had gotten a C+. This was just a practice test for the exam! Everyone around her had gotten B's or higher. Yet she had gotten a C+. What was wrong with her?

Rory stuffs the test into her binder, embarrassed that anyone might see her failure. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, but she barely notices. Tristan stops at the side of her desk, wondering why his girlfriend's face is wrenched in confusion and pain.

"Rory? You all right?" Tristan sets his hand lightly on her arm. She looks up at him, startled.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Um…" Rory collects her things quickly, not looking at Tristan. "I gotta go. I have to be at my next class early." She dashes from the room, leaving a confused Tristan behind. Louise approaches him, sucking on a Tootsie pop and looking mischievous.

"She got a C+," she informs Tristan.

"What?"

"A C+. On her test? I could see it from a mile away. I guess it's a big red letter day."

"Shit," Tristan mutters under his breath, then heads off in pursuit of Rory. He runs to her locker, where she is switching her things for next period. "Rory!" She looks at him, startled.

"Tristan, I said I had to hurry."

"It was a hard test, Ror," Tristan tells her.

"Yeah? What did you get?" She asks, almost accusingly.

"That's not important."

"Want to know what I got?" Rory says tightly. "I got a C+. I haven't gotten a grade that low since my first month here at Chilton. Do you know what this is going to do to my average in this class? The real exam is on Thursday! I'm never going to be ready in time. I'm going to fail!"

"Rory, you're sounding like Paris. Calm down," Tristan tries to stop her flailing arms but she practically hits him away.

"Calm down?" She cries out, frustrated. A few people in the hall stop and look at the commotion. "I knew I shouldn't have come over to your house to study. I knew I shouldn't have, but I did anyway, and now look what happened."

"It's just a practice exam. It doesn't count heavily in our average. So you don't have to worry about that. And you have two days to study for the exam. You'll be prepared, I know you will. You always are," Tristan reassures her calmly.

"I wasn't ready for this, was I?" Rory turns back to her locker, starting to stuff books into her bag with venom. The fact he doesn't even think her grade is a problem grates on her nerves. "I don't think we should see each other until exams are over."

"What?" Tristan exclaims. He steps around to her side, standing close.

"I got a C+ on this test because I was too busy making out with you," Rory says tersely. Mary, approaching her locker, slows down, not sure if it's okay to approach. It's obvious something is wrong between her two friends. As silently as possible, she sneaks up to her locker, needing to get books for class. "It seems all I can do lately is kiss you. And when I'm not with you, all I can think about is kissing you. It's not healthy."

"We're boyfriend and girlfriend, Rory, how is that not healthy?"

"Don't you see it?"

"See what? That we can't keep our hands off of each other? Yeah, I see that."

"That's why we have to stay apart."

"Fine, we don't study together. I don't see why it has to be complete avoidance."

"Tristan-"

"What do you want, me to not drive you home from school? Come to your locker?" Tristan asks, annoyed. "Am I allowed to say hello to you in the hallway?"

"It's just one week, Tristan."

"It's not the time, Rory, it's your reasoning."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I said, I don't get why can't I call you or see you at all."

"Because of you...you and everything that we are right now! This..._stuff_...with us is interfering with everything else!"

"You mean the sex thing?" Tristan drops his voice. "I know it's hard, Rory, but-"

"It's that and more."

"So, what? You want to take a _break_? Is that what you're saying?"

"What are we, Ross and Rachel? No,that's not what I'm saying," Rory replies, sighing. She faces her locker, searching for something. "God, sometimes I wish I could just go back to the days when I couldn't stand you, you know that? It would make my life so much easier."

"Oh would it," Tristan replies, his voice tight. He takes a step back from her.

"I'm just saying that us, right now? It's a problem," Rory finds what she was looking for and turns to Tristan.

"It is."

"Everything's complicated."

"I told you it would be when we started."

"And I know that you don't take school as seriously as I do, so it's hard for you to understand why I'm so-"

"Since when don't I take school seriously? I have been working my ass off this semester, Rory."

"It's different for me, Tristan."

"I see."

"I didn't mean it like that," Rory back tracks, seeing the look on his face.

"No, I think you did."

"You know I didn't."

"If being _attracted_ to me is such a huge problem for you, then maybe we _should_ just stay away from each other."

"Tristan, stop it. You know I didn't- my grades are important to me. You've got to understand that with you always trying to-"

"It's my fault?" Tristan exclaims. "I didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do, Rory."

"I didn't mean that either!" Rory says back, frustrated. Their voices keep rising, the space between them growing.

"Then what do you mean?" Tristan demands, his voice cracking.

"I don't know anymore!" Rory yells back at him, causing the hallway around her to fall silent. Suddenly a loud thudding noise comes from behind Rory and she jumps. Turning around, she sees Mary, standing there turning bright red.

"I'm so sorry, I was just trying to get my books and..." she mumbles, picking up her heavy calculus textbook from the ground and trying not to look at Rory. Everyone in the hallway resumes their business, knowing the show is over. Rory turns back to Tristan but he's gone.

"Tristan!" She calls. He's halfway down the hall and her voice does nothing to stop him. Trying not to cry, she bends down and helps Mary pick up the items that had fallen out of her bag.

"You okay?" Mary asks softly.

"I'm all right," Rory mumbles, sniffling lightly. "It's just so stupid."

"What happened?" She asks as Rory hands her a notebook. They both stand up.

"I got a bad grade on my practice exam for English."

"You're serious?"

"Yeah," Rory responds, looking down at her feet. "I spent my time with Tristan instead of studying. Then I took it out on him..." She winces, turning to face her locker. "I feel like a moron."

"Don't worry about it. You guys will make up in no time flat. Tristan is too crazy about you to stay mad for long."

Rory nods, not really agreeing with Mary, but too exhausted to say differently. "Anyway...did you get the new copy of the Beat?" She inquires, trying to change the subject. Mary's face changes, causing Rory alarm. "What?"

"You didn't see it?" Mary asks. She grabs a copy from her locker. "I already had them pulled, don't freak." Rory stares at the newspaper, which reads Classical to Classic Rock: Music to Stud by."

"Music to _Stud_ by?" Rory exclaims, taking the paper from Mary with utter dismay. "What are we, breeding horses?"

"Horses wasn't the first place people's minds went to," Mary remarks.

"If we were going to an article on _that_, why would we say 'Stud by'? Are people crazy?"

"No one _really_ thinks it's anything like that, Rory. You know the guys in this school...any opportunity for a sex joke..." Mary says. "It doesn't matter. I got almost every copy in the school. They're in the headmaster's office for safekeeping."

"Could this day get any worse?" Rory exclaims, still looking at the headline. "I'll call the printer when I get home today and get them reprinted for tomorrow."

"They'll be able to get them done by tomorrow?"

"They'll have to! It's the last day before exams. We have to get this edition out, don't we?" Rory says, panicked. She stops herself, trying not to get all wound up again. "Anyway, I'll call them. Thanks for getting all the papers in, Mary. It's a huge help."

"Not a problem. And don't worry, Rory, not too many people saw it. It'll be forgotten by the end of the day."

"Right," Rory nods, closing her locker. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Try to have a better day, Ror."

"Here's hoping," she mutters. But she has no such luck. Two steps away from her locker, she nearly walks right into Summer.

"Rory, hey!" Summer greets her. She smiles, an unsettling smile that Rory knows immediately to be insincere. "You and Tristan must have had a lot of fun researching for your article. Tell me, did you do it to _every_ song on the list to make sure it was an adequate choice?"

Rory stares at Tristan's ex-girlfriend for a moment, a wide array of comebacks coming to mind. The best one she could come up with, however, was "Your name is _Summer_, for christ's sake." Dissing the other girl's name didn't seem like the most dignified or intelligent option.

Without a word, Rory simply turns and walks away.

"What else can go wrong today?" She mutters, not knowing that fate would take it as a challenge.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?" Lorelai exclaims as Rory slowly walks into the mostly empty diner, dragging her feet. "You look like you got hit by a truck."

"Gee, thanks. That's what I needed to hear right now," Rory mumbles, off her hat and sitting down on the stool next to her mom with a heavy sigh. She takes off her gloves and stretches out her cold fingers.

"Here, take this," Luke hands her a steaming mug full of hot chocolate. "You look like you're freezing."

"That's cause I am," Rory replies, quickly taking a sip of the warm drink. Lorelai reaches over and rubs her daughter's back comfortingly.

"What's going on? Have a bad day?"

"You know in horror movies when kids get trapped in a house with a serial killer all night and can't escape? That would be a fun vacation compared to today."

"Ehh, that bad, huh?" Lorelai frowns.

"I know what will make it better," Luke turns around and writes something down on a piece of paper and hands it back to Cesar. "With extra whipped cream," he adds. Rory smiles.

"You're making me Belgian waffles? You always refuse to make those for us at dinner!"

"Well, today's an exception. Horribly sugary and unhealthy breakfast will indeed be served tonight."

"At least one thing happened that was good then, huh?" Lorelai pokes Rory in the ribs. "Now, tell Mommy what was wrong with today." "Too much to even list. The Chilton Beat came out with the headline 'Music to Stud by' instead of study, so I was subjected to the darling Summer and others asking me if Tristan and I had done investigative research - we haven't -" Rory adds in, knowing her mother was about to interrupt and ask. "I got a C+ on my practice exam in English class, which I thought I did really well on-"

"A C+? That's unlike you. Was it a really hard one?"

"No, that's exactly it. I should've gotten an A. A B+, at the very least. I screwed up," Rory states, upset with herself.

"Rory, it's just a practice test, right?"

"That's not the point..." Rory sighs. "I missed the bus home because I forgot things from my locker three times and then got held up by Paris, who wanted to know why Tristan and I weren't speaking, so I walked to Grandma's house and it started to snow. She and Grandpa weren't home, so the maid called a taxi for me, which cost all the money I had in my wallet so I couldn't give the driver a tip and I felt like a moron. Then I realized I forgot my house keys and the turtle was frozen to the floor of the porch so I couldn't get the spare key to get in the house, so I walked here to find you."

"That is a bad day," Luke tells her.

"Honey, I'm sorry. That all sounded really terrible. Could we back up to the beginning of that long list, though? For just a minute?" Lorelai asks. Rory frowns, not really wanting to explain the Tristan fight at the moment. "What was it you said about you and Tristan not speaking?"

"Did he do something? I'll kill him," Luke cuts in. Rory shakes her head no.

"It wasn't him. It was me...it was all me."

"What happened?"

"The English test."

"You and Tristan fought over your grade?" Lorelai is puzzled. "You smart kids are weird."

"I blamed him for my bad grade."

"Why, did you cheat off of him?"

"Mom."

"Sorry. Obviously humor is not needed here."

"Why did you blame him, Rory?" Luke asks, setting a plate full of waffles, covered in strawberry topping and loads of whipped cream, in front of her.

"Thanks," she says, looking at the waffles. "I just...I needed someone to be mad at. He was a likely target because whenever we try to study..." Rory stops, really not wanting to go there.

"You don't study," Luke supplies, in a tone that clearly warns Lorelai that now is not the time to press the subject.

"So your lack of study time, as a result of your and Tristan's...not studying..." She nods to Luke. "Is why you got angry with him?"

"Yeah..."

"Rory, that's not his fault. You made the choice-"

"I know. And that's why I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. I totally freaked on him and now he's angry and hurt and it's all my fault," she sets her fork down on the counter and puts her hands to her face. "I am a huge idiot."

"I'm sure Tristan understands it was just a freak out," Lorelai assures her. Rory shakes her head no.

"Mom, I said some things that..."

"Like what?"

"Oh, for instance...besides telling him it was his fault entirely, I said he didn't really care about school, and that our relationship was unhealthy, and that we should stay away from each other entirely until exams are over, and being attracted to him was this huge problem which totally interfered with my _life_ and that everything was easier when I couldn't stand him."

"Wow, Rory. You really went all out, didn't you? Overachiever. You never do anything halfway," Lorelai states, trying to get her to laugh or roll her eyes, or do something besides look so upset.

Rory puts her head in her hands again.

"I'm a terrible person."

"Honey, you're not a terrible person. You were just stressed out. What you said to Tristan...I won't lie, it was a little...harsh. But Ror, that boy loves you. More than anything in the world. Sometimes I think you _are_ his world. A stupid fight where you said a whole lot of things you didn't even mean is not going to break you guys up."

"That's just it. You can't really hurt someone badly unless they really care about you, right?" Lorelai slowly nods in agreement. "Tristan does love me. You said it before...you know how his life is. His parents are awful, his brother doesn't live at home and they're not even close to begin with...and now all of his friends are my friends, so if we break up, what's going to happen to that? I've ruined everything. Tristan's going to hate me."

"He is _not_ going to hate you. You didn't ruin everything."

"Yes I did. All of our plans...he was going to come and stay for Christmas, and now he's going to spend it alone in that stupid mansion-"

"He was going to come and stay for Christmas?" Lorelai repeats, surprised.

"Stay here?" Luke adds, equally surprised.

"I was going to ask you about it this week," Rory states. "His parents leave for England on Thursday. He wanted me to go to his family's ski lodge but I said there was no way you'd let me but I suggested that he come out here and spend the holidays with us, not only because I didn't want him to be all alone but because I wanted to share it with him...and now that's all gone. Just gone!"

"Rory, you have to calm down, hon. Tristan and you are going to be fine."

"I'm not hungry anymore. I'm sorry, Luke. Thanks for the waffles," Rory steps off of her stool, leaving her untouched breakfast-dinner on the counter.

"Rory, where are you going?"

"I'm going to go home. I want to be alone for awhile. Can I have the keys?"

Lorelai wordlessly digs them out of her pocket and hands them to her.

"Thanks. I'll see you later," Rory walks out of the diner and Luke looks at Lorelai, bewildered.

"You're just gonna let her go? Like that? She's a mess!"

"Rory needs to have a little alone time...I know the look. I press her now and she's just going to get angry at me," Lorelai tells him. "She needs to sort through it all. I hope she calls him."

"Is she going to be okay?" Luke is obviously very concerned.

"She'll be all right. You know Tristan's going to come around fast."

"Really?"

"I think so."

"I hope so," Luke pours Lorelai another cup of coffee. "She sure laid a lot on him just because of a grade. What else is goin' on?"

"I don't know..." Lorelai replies. Luke eyes her.

"But you have an idea."

"I think sex is becoming an issue between them..."

"Is Tristan pressuring her? Why, that little twerp, I'm gonna-"

"I think it's the other way around," Lorelai corrects him quickly before he gets really bent out of shape. He stops mid-sentence, stunned.

"Rory is...?"

"I think so," Lorelai says, taking a sip of her coffee. Luke is dismayed.

"Rory wants to..." He makes a face that clearly shows just thinking about Rory doing such a thing is unfathomable. "No..." Lorelai nods. "And he doesn't?"

"No, no...didn't say that. I think he does. I mean, he's a guy, right?" Lorelai sets her mug back on the counter. "I believe they decided they were going to wait...and waiting has become incredibly difficult. I just happen to think Rory's having a harder time dealing with it."

"I don't like to think about Rory doing...that kind of stuff."

"Hey, you think I do?" Lorelai retorts. "Trust me, this is no fun. But I have to face that facts and be responsible about this. My mother ignored it, pretended like I had no feelings. I won't do that to Rory. Even if it means acknowledging the fact that she is just dying to be with this boy."

"You know that Rory will make the right decision...don't you?" Luke says earnestly. "You've brought her up right, Lorelai. Whatever she decides to do...it's going to be the right thing. And she'll always tell you, she's not going to hide things from you the way you had to with your mom. Everything's different."

"I know it is," Lorelai replies softly. She leans across the counter and gives Luke a small kiss on the lips. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For loving me. And for loving Rory."

"Well, I don't exactly deserve thanks for that. I can't even help it."

"Thanks," Lorelai repeats, picking up her coffee. "Now...what are _you_ doing for Christmas?"

"I...I thought I was coming to Sookie's with you?"

Lorelai smiles across the rim of the mug, unable to stop herself.

"That's what the plan usually is, isn't it?" Luke continues.

"Yes, yes it is. We just hadn't talked about it, so I thought maybe you didn't know...I thought maybe you had made other plans..."

"No, I assumed...I assumed I was going with you and Rory."

"You assumed right," Lorelai stands, drawing him to her in a longer, deeper kiss this time. "God I love you."

"I love you too," he murmurs. "You just spilled your coffee."

"What? Oh goddammit! It's like an oil spill!" Lorelai shrieks, jumping back from the counter. "A precious resource is being wasted! Someone help!" Luke throws the towel from over his shoulder across the mess and then pulls Lorelai back to him.

"Forget it," he says, pressing his lips to hers.

* * *

Rory walks up the path toward the house, her face freezing cold. The small tracks of her tears seemed frozen against her cheeks, her nose stinging and her eyelashes feeling like icicles. Not looking up, she heads toward the steps, and is one step up when she realizes someone is sitting next to her.

"Rory," Dean's voice stops her, causing her to jump. She almost slips on the icy steps and he reacts quickly, standing up and grabbing her. He holds her for a moment, steadying her, then lets go. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" Rory asks, her voice snapping.

"I wanted to talk to you," He explains, pausing as he notices her tear-stained face. "What's the matter?"

"I've just had a bad day. I really just kind of wanted to be alone, Dean," Rory says, too tired and upset to bother with being polite.

"Could you spare me a few minutes? I figure you owe me that," Dean states, hurt by her attitude. She had no right to be rude to him; if anyone had the right to be rude, it was him.

"I'm sorry, you're right," Rory mumbles, deciding that today would officially go down in history as the worst day of her life. "You want to come inside?"

"Sure. It's freezing out here." Rory unlocks the door and Dean follows her inside. She flips on the foyer light, struggling to get off her boots. A knot in her shoelace almost causes her to burst into tears. Dean bends down on his knees and unties it for her. She waits awkwardly as he loosens her laces. "Thanks."

"No problem," he mumbles back, not looking at her. Rory takes off her jacket and goes into the living room, turning on the monkey lamp first. "Are you okay? You seem really...weird."

"We haven't spoken in almost three months, Dean, and suddenly you show up...how am I supposed to act?" Rory asks, then hurriedly amends. "I didn't mean that to sound nasty," Rory corrects herself, bringing her hand to her forehead. If only today were just over... "Everything's just coming out mean today. I'm surprised, that's all." She sits down on the couch, rubbing her head, a headache brewing in her temples. "How are you?"

"Tina broke up with me. You know I've been dating her, right?" Dean sits down on the opposite end of the couch. Rory nods slowly.

"Yeah...Lane told me," she says quietly. "I'm sorry. Why?"

"No reason, really. Got bored with me, I guess. You know how she is."

"Yeah, I do." Rory is quiet, not sure what to say next.

"I didn't. But I know now," Dean shrugs.

"Um...so...are you okay? You don't seem..." She stops.

"Upset?" Dean supplies. "That's probably because I'm not."

"Oh. Sorry...I assumed..." Rory trails off, at a loss. She has absolutely no idea why he's here and she's too tired to play games. She waits for him to continue, clueless as to what he wants her to do. The silence hangs in the air; Dean is waiting for her to say something else. The face-off lasts a few eternally long moments until Dean realizes she's going to remain silent.

"You're wondering why I'm here." It's not question, but a statement.

"Kind of," Rory glances at him, then looks away. "I mean, it's not a problem that you're here. It's just..."

"I'm here because Tina dumped me and I didn't even care," Dean informs her, turning his body toward hers. He is staring at her, Rory knows it. She can't bring herself to look at him. "And she wasn't nice about it either."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Dean snaps, turning his gaze to the floor. "I didn't come for pity. The last thing I need is you looking _down_ on me."

"Then what _did_ you come for?" Rory demands, finally looking at him, to find that he's no longer looking at her.

"I came because when Tina broke up with me, it wasn't like I felt _nothing_. I felt pissed off and hurt."

"I'm confused, you just said-"

"I'm still mad at _you_, Rory. I'm not anymore over you right now then I was the day after we broke up," Dean faces her once more. Rory gazes at him for a moment, at a loss for words. She rises, taking a few nervous steps around the coffee table. "I've been ignoring it, just thinking it would go away. But I realized, unfortunately, it's not going to."

"Dean..."

"I need to know why, Rory."

"Why...what?"

"Why him? Why do you love _that guy_ and not me? What went wrong between us that I could lose you so easily?"

"Dean, I did love you. I really did...And it wasn't like that. I wasn't like Tristan came into the picture and I dropped you instantly."

"It sure seemed that way."

"Tristan just..." Rory has no idea how to explain things without totally killing him. "Tristan made me feel differently. It was...he wasn't easy. Nothing about him is easy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that he challenges me...he makes me think about things that..." Rory is struggling to find the right words to explain herself. "The more I was with him, the more I wanted to be with him. I wanted to know everything I could about him. I don't know. I can't explain it to you...I just can't."

"That sounded like an explanation to me. I wasn't exciting enough for you."

"That's not it, Dean," Rory circles back around the table and sits down next to him.

"Then what is it? I've been going insane for months trying to figure it out, Rory. One day we we're fine and the next you're telling me that you're kissing him. We were over before I knew what was going on. In one instant."

"I'm sorry for that, Dean, I really am. I never in a million years thought that cheating on you would be something I could do. I never meant for it to happen; that's why I told you right after it happened."

"Wow, thanks for the thought."

"Would you drop the sarcasm?" Rory exclaims. Dean gets up, walking across the room toward the windows.

"I don't understand how we could date for almost a year and then have it end like that. How in a few weeks with him you're already sleeping together, when you would barely make out with me!"

"You never expressed interest in doing anything but!" Rory says, getting up as well.

"I treated you with _respect_, Rory."

"You treated me like some kind of untouchable virgin."

"Tristan sure doesn't, does he?" Dean snaps back bitterly.

"No, he doesn't. He treats me like I drive him crazy. Like if he had his way, he'd be kissing me 24 hours a day," Rory sounds like a five year old, purposely trying to piss him off, but she doesn't care. She wants to hurt him. He has no right to be doing this to her now.

"So what you're saying is that you'd rather date someone who is a walking-"

"Don't even-"

"Does he even love you? Or is he just using you for sex?"

"We're not having sex!" Rory shouts back, furious. Dean falls silent, stunned. Rory stands there, fuming, as Dean searches for something to say to her. Rory bites her lip, holding back tears of anger and frustration. She just wishes that he would leave, so she could run to her room and hide from the world.

"I'm sorry...I assumed that...I mean, I saw the...That day in the street when we...and I thought..." It's clear that he feels like a complete moron.

"It doesn't matter..." Rory sits down on the couch. Dean fingers some of the knick-knacks laying on the table by the window, searching his mind for something to say.

"I didn't mean to start a fight with you, Rory. I really just wanted to talk."

"No you didn't," Rory replies.

"You're right...maybe I didn't," He carefully studies a tiny ceramic monkey Lorelai had bought to keep the monkey lamp company, focusing on it as if it were an ancient artifact. "I think I hate you sometimes..."

"Could you leave now?" Rory asks; his words sting like salt in an open wound. "Cause as enjoyable as this has been-"

"Let me finish."

"More to say? By all means, keep going. I'm not crying yet," Rory snorts, taking a pillow from the couch and hugs it to her body.

"I think I hate you sometimes," Dean restarts, pausing for a second. "And I hate that I hate you."

"I hate that you hate me too," Rory replies quietly.

"I hate seeing you around town with him, seeing you kiss him, seeing you look at him like you used to look at me. I hate that when I think about you, I have to feel like someone is stabbing a knife into my chest. I don't want to feel like that anymore."

"I don't know what to say, Dean. I don't know how to make you _not_ feel that way. I can't change how things are."

"I'm not asking you to. I know we're over. I guess I just needed to see you...and talk to you about it...instead of keeping it all bottled up or whatever...Not that I'm any less confused now than I was before." Dean sets the monkey back down and walks to the couch. He sits down next to Rory, taking her hand in his. Rory lets him, feeling saddened as she watches his fingers intertwine with hers.

His hand feels so familiar but so strange, like looking at a photograph of someone you haven't seen in years. They look the same, but you know that they're different somehow. They've lived thousands of minutes, hours and days without you there to bear witness to every moment - things have happened that you can't even imagine. The only thing you _do_ know is that you _don't_ know the person in the picture anymore. "I miss you, Rory," Dean whispers, almost as if he's afraid to say it. Rory looks up from their hands and finds herself staring into his eyes, which are welling up and as beautiful as ever. She had always loved his eyes; seeing them filled with tears cause her own to start watering.

"I miss you too," Rory replies, her voice cracking horribly. "I wish that things didn't happen the way they did."

"I do too," Dean nods, placing his other hand over their already clasped ones. He averts his eyes from hers, sniffling slightly. He's biting back tears, trying very hard not to break down. He didn't want her to see him cry. "Tell me the truth...are you really happy with him?"

"I am," Rory tells him, not wanting to tell him that currently Tristan wasn't too happy with her. "If you had told me a year ago that I would be saying that about Tristan DuGrey, I would've told you to check into a mental institution."

"I guess first impressions aren't always right," Dean murmurs.

"Or second, or third, or fourth ones," Rory laughs through light tears. "I guess it's a good thing we kept getting thrown together. I would've thought him to be unbearable forever if we hadn't."

"I wouldn't have minded that," Dean says, laughing a bit himself. "Though I suppose it is very Jane Austen that you two wound up together." A smile alights upon Rory's face at the mention of Austen.

"I always knew you loved her," Rory squeezes his hand. "Aren't you glad I forced you to read her?"

"And aren't you glad I forced you to read Hunter Thompson?"

"I will now and forever march the beat of a drummer that no one else can hear," Rory tells him. "And also never look at Johnny Depp in quite the same way."

"Cheat, you saw the movie," Dean accuses.

"Only after I read the book," Rory quickly defends. "And the book was better." They both laugh, the tension slowly beginning to ease. Dean untangles his hands from hers, slowly rising from the couch.

"I should go," he says, gesturing toward the door. "I'm sorry that I spewed on you like that."

"I'm sorry for a lot of things," Rory murmurs quietly, looking up at him from her place on the couch. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Don't say that," Dean responds, leaning down and taking her hands as she stands up. He smiles lightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. Rory glances down as he runs his hand gently through her hair. "I'm not sorry I met you. I'm not sorry that I went with you to that dance, and I'm not sorry that you dragged me to every bookstore in Hartford. I'll never be sorry about Donna Reed Night. And in a million years, I'll never be sorry that I fell in love with you. So don't be sorry about everything."

Rory gazes back up at him, forcing a weak but tender smile through the tears which are now freely flowing. He rubs her hands gently with his thumbs, a tear rolling down his own cheek.

"I don't like not having you in my life. I don't like seeing you on the street and feeling like I have to hide, or not being able to talk to you in the market. I can't stand the way things are and I know it's my fault, and I deserve it. I wish we could be friends..." Rory responds. Dean takes one hand away from hers and brushes the tears from his face.

"I wish we could too. But I don't know if I can...not right now."

"I understand."

"But I would think...after all this...maybe being civil...maybe even pleasant, when we see each other would be okay. I mean, I think I could handle that."

"I think I could handle that too," Rory replies, nodding.

"Good."

"Very good."

"I should go home. My mom is probably wondering where I am."

"And mine will be home any minute."

"So..."

"So...I'll walk you out," Rory takes a step toward the foyer. Dean walks in that direction and Rory follows. At the doorway, Dean turns around, looking down at Rory.

"I'll see you soon. Maybe sometime we could get coffee or something."

"That sounds nice."

"Okay. So...see ya."

"See you."

Dean hesitates as he opens the door, turning back toward Rory. Rory, who had taken a step forward to close the door behind him, stops right against his body. She freezes as the familiarity of being so close to him causes memories to come flooding back. Dean, apparently travelling down the same memory lane, doesn't move either. Slowly, he leans down toward her. For a brief moment, Rory thinks that he's going to kiss her. Before she has time to react or stop him, he lays a soft kiss on her forehead. Her panic wanes immediately.

"Good night, Rory." He gives her one last long look and then turns and walks down the front steps. Rory watches him go.

"Good night." Dean glances back at her as her words echo into the dark evening light and gives her a small wave good-bye. Rory closes the door gently. She takes one step toward her bedroom when the front door re-opens.

"Hey," Lorelai greets her, eyeing her strangely. "Why was Dean here?"

"He had some things to say to me," Rory mumbles.

"What things?" Lorelai dumps her purse, jacket, hat and scarf onto the floor with a thud.

"Just...things. About us, about what happened." She picks up her back pack from the floor where she had dropped it earlier and hefts it onto her shoulder.

"Now? Isn't it a little late? I know that someone can be bitter over a break-up for life, but confrontation almost three months after the fact? That'd be like Lloyd Dobler with a boombox two years after Diane Court gave him the pen."

"He was dating that Tina Edwards girl and apparently she dumped him...and apparently not caring that she dumped him made him realize that he was still hung up on what happened with me...and..." Rory trails off, tired of explaining. "And it really doesn't matter."

"Are you okay? You look upset," Lorelai asks, concerned. She reaches out and rubs Rory's head comfortingly, then rubs her arm. Rory nods, shying away from her mother's touch. "Did you fight?"

"Yes, but I'm fine. He and I are actually kind of okay now."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? Or at least a kind of good thing?"

"I guess. I'm going to go to bed," Rory points toward her room. Lorelai looks dismayed and worried all at once, immediately looking at her plastic pink glow in the dark watch.

"It's like 6:30, Rory."

"I'm tired, I just want to sleep."

"You don't want dinner?"

"I'm not hungry."

"All right," Lorelai backs off, not wanting to upset Rory any further. "I'm just gonna sit and watch TV for awhile. Give me a shout if you need anything, okay, honey?"

"Thanks," Rory replies, heading toward her bedroom. Lorelai watches her go, concern evident in her eyes.

Rory shuts her bedroom door and leans against it, closing her eyes and letting out a long, deep sigh. She drops her book bag to the floor and pushes off the door, needing the extra oomph to get her over to her closet. Slowly, she changes out of her Chilton uniform and into her pajamas. She pauses while searching for a t-shirt to wear to bed, pulling out a worn-out lifeguard-on-duty t-shirt from Tristan's job at the country club, his name written on the front. She holds it to her face, breathing his scent in, then slips the t-shirt on. He'd worn the old thing over one day when he had to help Luke move their old freezer out of the basement among other odds and ends, and gotten changed into something nicer later. She had never given it back, gladly relegating it to her sleepwear.

Crawling into bed, she picks up her history notebook and flips it open, deciding that she couldn't afford not to put some studying time in. This only lasts a few minutes. Four pages into her chapter eight notes, she finds Tristan's messy handwriting scrawled along the margin. It is just a little note he must have written one day while they were paired off in class, meaningless blather about how boring class was and a small doodle of their even more boring teacher, but it causes Rory to snap her notebook closed.

She gets up off of her bed and sets the notebook on her desk, searching for something else, anything else. Instead her eyes fall on the framed picture of herself and Tristan that sits next to her pencil jar. It is a candid snapshot that Mary took at the winter formal just weeks ago; neither Tristan or Rory had been aware they were being photographed. They were sitting at their dinner table, her chair pulled close to his, deeply enthralled with one another, Tristan whispering something into Rory's ear that caused them both to smile. Rory picks up the picture, staring at it.

How could she have been so stupid? She had heard herself saying those things to him, and even as they came out of her mouth, she wanted them back. She knew then she was making a mistake. But she couldn't stop herself. And now Tristan is gone. Everyone said he would forgive her easily. But they didn't see the look on Tristan's face. Rory's words meant more to him than anyone else's in the world. Anyone else could have said those things to him and he would've blown them off. But when she said them...Rory knew she had done more damage than anyone else could imagine.

Photograph in hand, she walks out of her bedroom and to the living room. Lorelai twists from her seat on the couch to look at ther daughter.

"Everything okay?"

"It's okay, I just need the phone," Rory replies, picking it up from the table and heading back to her bedroom, closing the door. Taking another look at the picture, she quickly dials Tristan's phone number. Her heart is in her throat, butterflies in her stomach. It feels like it used to, when she first used to call him, when they were starting out as friends. The terror of the unknown. The phone rings for what seems to be an eternity until finally someone picks up.

"Hello, DuGrey Residence? This is Antoine."

"Hello, Antoine, this is Rory. Is Tristan home?"

"Mr. DuGrey is not here at the moment, Miss Gilmore."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"He left no word as to when to expect him. Would you like to leave him a message?"

"Oh...could you please just tell him I called? And to please call me back?"

"Of course, Miss Gilmore. Have a good night." The phone clicks back to a dial tone.

"Yeah...good night," Rory mumbles, staring at the phone. She doesn't know what to do now. All she wants to do is talk to him, to make sure that everything is all right between them. But instead she's left in her empty bedroom, the world's most shrill and annoying dial tone echoing out of the receiver. Clicking the phone off, Rory sets it on her bookshelf and climbs back into bed. Pulling the covers over her head, she tries to muffle her sobs so her mother can not hear them.

* * *

"So..." Lane eyes her best friend, wondering what is going on in her busy head as Rory continues to stare out the bus window, the highway whizzing by. "Do you know what movie you want to see?"

"You can decide," Rory murmurs, not even glancing toward Lane. Lane looks back to Mary, who is sitting in the seat behind them, hoping for a little help.

"They're playing _The Princess Bride_ as part of the holiday family series, we could go see that?" Mary suggests, signaling to Lane that she should agree.

"Yeah, that's a great idea! Rory, you love that movie. It's perfect," Lane says excitedly.

"I really don't feel in the mood for romantic stuff right now," Rory mumbles, shifting in her seat. Lane grimaces, shooting another harried look at Mary.

"It's not just romance! It's giants and swordplay and 'Hallo my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die' kind of stuff. You can't say no to Inigo."

"I bet I can," Rory responds. Lane, frustrated, rolls her eyes.

"As you wish," she retorts. "We should've stayed home and watched _Wings of the Dove_."

"Or _Sid and Nancy_."

"Or _The House of Mirth_."

"All perfectly depressing and equally harsh on love," Mary finishes. Rory sighs.

"We can go see whatever you guys want to see," she says. "Just not _The Princess Bride_."

"We don't have to see anything, if you don't want to. We can go to the bookstore and we can look at magazines while you browse the classics," Mary tries another tack.

"This is us," Rory states, gesturing for them to get up quickly as the bus pulls to a slow stop. Lane nearly gets knocked over by a passerby while trying to get out into the aisle.

"I really wish Lorelai didn't need the car today. She had to go where exactly?" Lane twists her head back to look at Rory and Mary as they make their way out of the bus.

"My dad called yesterday and she agreed to meet him for lunch somewhere...like halfway between Stars Hollow and wherever he's staying for the weekend, apparently. I promised him I'd talk her into talkiing to him, and I at least got her to go to lunch, which is good, I guess..."

"I thought you were mad at your dad?" Lane presses further, the previous sentences one of the longest statements Rory's made all day.

"Not so much anymore..." Rory replies, shutting down again as they step down off the bus and into the cold winter weather. They all pull their jackets tighter to their bodies and hurry towards the mall entrance.

Once inside, they stomp off their feet and throw back their hoods, all chilly now.

"Somehow, it seems colder here than in Stars Hollow," Lane observes.

"It even feels colder than it did at my house, and that's just fifteen minutes away," Mary agrees. Rory merely unbuttons her jacket, looking around them at the closest stores. "We should go look at the record store. There's still one Clash CD missing from my complete collection."

"Oh no," Rory groans.

"It's not that terrible, it's not their best album," Mary responds. "And I have it on vinyl, I just want a backup on CD."

"Not that," Rory replies. Lane and Mary look at her, then quickly follow her gaze. Paris, Louise and Madeleine are walking toward them, apparently headed for the exit. Louise and Madeleine have bags full of clothes, but Paris only has a small Barnes and Noble bag. They stop too when they spot Rory and her friends.

"We could make a run for it," Mary whispers. But the three other girls are already heading in their direction.

"Rory. How lovely to see you," Paris greets her flatly, approaching her with an air of a panther circling its wounded prey. "Wouldn't think you'd be out shopping and having a grand old time when Tristan is sitting at home, heartbroken-"

"We had to do some Christmas shopping," Lane cuts in.

"So did we!" Madeleine replies happily. Paris glares at her.

"Don't speak."

"Sorry."

"Christmas shopping? It's amazing how heartless some people are, off having fun as if they haven't done anything wrong."

"What is your problem?" Mary jumps in, annoyed.

"I warned you, Rory. I told you not to hurt him. But what did you do?"

"Look, Paris-" Rory starts but Paris cuts her off.

"You did exactly that. I talked to him yesterday you know. He's a mess. Does that make you happy?"

"Paris, I didn't mean any of those things I said. I tried to call him and tell him that but he won't take any of my calls. I've tried going to his house but Antoine always says he's not home. I don't know what I'm supposed to do!" Rory exclaims.

"Keep trying! He's not going to let you get close again unless you force him to."

"Deep," Louise sneaks in with a teasing grin. Paris glares at her too.

"Don't speak either."

"We really have to go," Lane grabs Rory's arm to start leading her away from the confrontation but Paris gets right in their path.

"He's going to go to England with his parents for winter break," Paris tells her. "He was looking forward to coming to your stupid little town, god knows why. And now he's going to be in a foreign country all alone while his parents fawn over Rian and he's going to hate it. He thinks he's escaping something but he's not. And he's going to come back hating you for it."

"It was just one fight, Paris. They're going to make up," Lane informs her, noticing that Rory is near tears.

"Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve 24/7 like you small town folk," Paris says snidely. "Where Tristan and I come from, it's like the freaking security vault in _Mission Impossible_, okay? You let someone in there who doesn't belong and you're going to lose something important."

"So Rory's what, Tom Cruise?" Mary asks angrily.

"No, she's that backstabbing Frenchman who gets it in the end. Remember? Big huge painful helicopter explosion."

"You're really amazing, Paris. Just because you're in love with Tristan or something doesn't mean that you have to do this to Rory," Lane says cuttingly.

"You're right, I do love Tristan."

"She finally admits it," Louise says. The pair had been standing by watching the fight unfold. Paris whips around to face her.

"What did I tell you two?" She turns back to Rory. "I've known Tristan since kindergarten. He was my first friend, my first kiss-"

"It was a dare," Louise cuts in.

"Not the point! We were close growing up and even though we went our separate ways in middle school, I still loved him. And now even though I'm not _in_ love with him anymore, I can't stand seeing him like this. It almost makes me wish we hadn't become friends again just so I wouldn't have to see him go through what Rory's doing to him."

"Stop it!" Lane exclaims at the same time that Rory begins to cry.

"Please stop, Paris," Mary pleads.

"It was just a stupid fight. People don't break up over one stupid fight," Rory says through her tears, sounding more like she's trying to convince herself and not them. She turns and walks away, heading quickly toward the ladies bathroom across the way. Louise and Madeleine back away from Paris, distancing themselves from what she had caused.

"What is wrong with you?" Lane demands. She and Mary take off after Rory, leaving Paris standing alone. She glances over her shoulder at her two friends; seeing that even they look judgemental, Paris sighs.

"Look, I told her. I warned her not to mess with him." She gets no reply from Louise or Madeleine. "God..." Sighing, she walks in the same direction that Lane and Mary had just gone.

She enters the bathroom slowly, hearing Rory softly crying and Lane and Mary's voices trying to sooth her, calm her down. Lane and Mary both look up, their eyes turning cold upon seeing her.

"What do you want now?"

"Go away, Paris, you've done enough."

"I need to talk to Rory." Paris states. Lane gets up, crossing toward Paris intimidatingly. Paris doesn't move.

"What part of go away don't you understand? Rory doesn't need this right now. Please leave!"

"Listen, I have some things to say to Rory, all right? Just give me a few minutes."

"It's all right," Rory says through her soft sobs.

"Rory," Lane starts,thinking that this is the worst idea ever.

"Just give me five minutes, guys," Rory stands up, wiping her face with her sweater sleeve. Lane and Mary slowly leave the bathroom, giving Paris warning looks as they pass by her. The bathroom is completely silent as Paris goes to Rory.

"I've never actually made you cry before," Paris observes. Rory laughs bitterly.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

"I know. You would think that by now I would've reduced you to tears at least...one...two..."

"Six...seven..."

"Ten times, at least," Paris meets Rory's eyes in the mirror. "Look, I'm sorry for those things I just said."

"They were true."

"Not entirely."

"Oh? What wasn't? Everything seemed right to me."

"And you say I'm hard on myself," Paris shakes her head. "Tristan's hurting right now, Rory."

"I know that," Rory mutters.

"But he still loves you. Even if he's angry and hurt, he still loves you. And I really don't think that it's anything a little time and a few more desperate phone calls and visits won't cure."

"I thought he was going to England."

"Not until Sunday."

"It seems hopeless."

"Well that's only because I just yelled at you until you cried. I tend to suck the optimism out of people," Paris grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and hands it to Rory. Rory is quiet for a minute as she dabs her eyes and face with the towel, until she lets out a small laugh.

"You know, I fought with Tristan because I got a bad grade on the practice exam. Ironically, I think I totally screwed up every real exam because of it."

"Couldn't concentrate?"

"Not even a little."

"I doubt you did that poorly. And even when you do poorly you're still better than 90% of the class."

"Paris, I think that's the closest you've ever come to complimenting me."

"Don't get used to it."

"I won't."

"Should I let your friends know that I haven't completely torn you to shreds in here?" Paris gestures to the door.

"Sure..." Rory nods. Paris goes to the door but Rory's voice stops her. "Paris?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you...if you talk to him, could you tell him that I miss him?"

"I'll tell him," Paris assures her.

"And that I love him?"

"I will. Don't worry..." Paris opens the door, then closes it again. "You tell anyone at school that I got all sappy with you and you'll never forget it."

"I would hardly call what just happened sappy, Paris, but your secret is safe with me."

"Good," Paris nods and opens the door. Lane and Mary practically jump up straight from their leaning positions against the wall. "As you were," Paris informs them, passing by and going back to her own friends who have been waiting, though doing so impatiently. Lane and Mary take a step toward the bathroom but Rory comes out first, still looking like a mess but at least not crying anymore.

"What did she want?"

"She apologized," Rory informs them. "I don't really want to talk or think about this anymore. Can we go get coffee? Triple caffeinated coffee?"

"Certainly."

"And then...maybe _The Princess Bride_."

"As you wish," Lane offers Rory her arm, and Mary takes the other. Together they walk back out into the mall.

* * *

Lorelai stares into the dairy case, her eyes darting between the ice cream cake and the chocolate mousse pie.

"Such a hard decision to make," she murmurs to herself, taking the two packages out once again to compare and contrast. She hears footsteps clicking on the linoleum floor behind her and groans in frustration. "No, Kirk, I will not put them back and no, I won't close the freezer door either. I don't care if you call the supermarket police on me, I need time to-" She turns around and stops, seeing that it's not Luke at all.

"I was just going to ask if you needed any help," Dean responds, smiling. "Kirk's been harassing you?"

"He doesn't like me letting all the cold air out of the freezer."

"You have been standing there with the door open for about ten minutes now."

"Well first I had to decide what kind of frozen drinks we'd need for the week, and then I almost bought frozen vegetables...thought better of it though...and then came the dessert dillemma. It's been a hard trip to the frozen section. It's like Mt. Everest or something." Dean gives her a look. "_Fine_," Lorelai steps away from the freezer, her hip no longer holding the door open. It falls shut slowly. "Closed. But now _you_ have to help me make a decision. Vanilla ice cream cake or chocolate pie?"

"Why not both?"

"Wow, it's almost like you've secretly been a Gilmore all along," Lorelai grins, plopping both boxes into her shopping basket. "That was the _perfect_ answer."

"I've been trained well," Dean smiles back. "Any other important decisions you need help making?"

"No, but I'll let you know," Lorelai responds. Dean nods and turns to go back down the aisle from whence he came. Lorelai lets him get two steps before calling him back. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?" He returns, looking at her expectantly.

"Just wanted to let you know...we miss having you around. I mean...I have to make Luke change the water bottles and stuff now, which he says he absolutely hates even though I think he likes being the man around the house...but...yeah. What I'm saying is that you're welcome to come by whenever. I know you and Rory aren't exactly best friends, but I know you came over to talk to her the other night, and..." Lorelai pauses, realizing her rambling is incredibly unclear. Dean waits for her to make her point, knowing it will come eventually. "So I guess I'm really saying that I was really happy to find out that you and Rory talked and...and I'm happy about it. And I hope that this means we'll get to see you again." Lorelai laughs. "Bet you haven't missed the weird blabbing, have you?"

"No, I have," Dean laughs too. "But thanks. I hope that I'll be seeing you guys again too."

"Good," Lorelai nods. Taylor walks down to the top of the aisle, motioning for Dean to come back up front.

"I guess I need to go bag or something."

"Duty calls. I'll see you later, Dean."

"Bye..." Dean backs up for three steps and then turns and heads toward the registers.

"That was sweet, in your own demented way," Luke's voice comes from behind Lorelai. "And I really don't like changing those stupid water bottles, by the way. You pay through the nose for that junk. I don't see why you can't just drink water from the faucet like normal people."

"Ew."

"Why ew? Tap water has never killed anyone."

"That you know of," Lorelai pokes him in the chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Need more dill pickles."

"What? You had crap loads of those in the back. I helped unload them."

"Well what can I say. There was a run on dill pickles. And sitting on the counter and mocking me doesn't count as helping."

"Oh, think of how boring it would've been had I not provided entertainment," Lorelai replies, picking a bag of flour up off the shelf as they slowly walk down the baking goods aisle. Luke looks at her questioningly.

"Name one thing you're going to use flour for."

"But it's so fluffy and wonderful. Like snow."

"You have snow outside," Luke states. Lorelai sticks her tongue out at him and puts the flour in her basket.

"I'm going to try to make chocolate chip cookies. I figure I should take something to Sookie's for dinner."

"I think Sookie would be more appreciative if you _didn't_," Luke retorts as she plops a bag of Nestle chocolate chips in with her other things.

"Aw, shut up. I'm feeling domestic. I think I can do it."

"Have Rory help you, okay?"

"Ye of little faith."

"How is Rory doing? I haven't seen her in the diner all week."

"She had exams and otherwise she's been either on the phone trying to get through to Tristan or hiding out in her room," Lorelai frowns, reading the back label of a can of baking powder. "Lane and Mary took her to the mall today to try to get her spirits up."

"Think it'll work?"

"I hope so. She needs to think about something else for just like, five minutes. She's been so upset over this Tristan thing...she's got to decompress somehow."

"I can't believe Tristan won't even talk to her, that little punk. Rory doesn't deserve that," Luke sighs, taking one can of baking powder out of her hand and replacing it with a different brand. Lorelai doesn't look like she's so sure she's in agreement with him about something.

"I don't know, Luke."

"No, that's a much better brand. There's a difference."

"Okay, Julia Child," Lorelai rolls her eyes. "But I meant Rory and Tristan," Lorelai explains. "I hate that Rory's hurting and I wish he would talk to her, but I think maybe Rory does deserve his anger, at least a little. Doing what she did and saying what she said...you know how he is, how he'd react to that."

"Do I?"

"He's scared, Luke!" Lorelai says, as if it should've been obvious to him. "I know what it's like to be in his shoes. Rory is the one thing in his life that makes sense, just like Christopher was for me. Rory has other things. Her family, her friends, this town, school, the paper...she has a lot. Tristan has her. And that means Rory can absolutely crush him into little itsy bitsy pieces if she wanted to. Or even if she didn't want to. Or mean to."

"And that's what she did? Crushed him into little itsy bitsy pieces?" Luke retorts, skeptically.

"She might've," Lorelai shrugs, picking up baking soda. "I don't know. And I'm sure this will work itself out, one way or another. I'm just worried about her in the meantime. That's what I do."

"I'm worried too," Luke says, kissing Lorelai on the forehead as she turns to face him. "But I know Rory will be fine. She always is."

"I know," Lorelai sighs, looking to the box of Arm & Hammer in her hand. "I don't even know why I'm getting this. What does this stuff do, anyway?"

"Lorelai, maybe you shouldn't bake."

"But I wanna!" She whines.

"Why don't I make the cookies?"

"What if I bought the pre-made dough?"

"Fine," Luke nods, following Lorelai back to the dairy case. She finds the one she wants, then grabs a can of whipped cream too. "What's that for?"

"Impulse buy. Man, am I starving. I could eat this whole store."

"Didn't you just have lunch?"

"Bad place. Not that it mattered," Lorelai groans.

"How did it go?" Luke asks, and it's clear he's been anxious to ask since he saw her, though at the same time nervous to find out the answer.

"Oh, the usual. Years and years of built-up resentment, you know the drill. He apologized for that last time he was in town, we talked about why he acted that way...which led to the usual array of accusations, defenses, questions and what ifs."

"And?"

"And then I told him what ifs didn't matter anymore," Lorelai states. "I told him that I'd always love him and that he's always be in mine and Rory's lives, but that was it. I'm in love with someone else now and he'd have to accept and respect that."

"Good," Luke murmurs, pulling her toward him.

"And even though I'm pretty sure Johnny Depp is unavailable, I said it just didn't matter. You have to follow your heart, you know? Johnny will come around eventually...France isn't that great."

"Very funny," Luke mutters. Lorelai grins and then leans in, laying a kiss on his lips.

"Come on. Get your pickles and meet me at the checkout. I want to be home when Rory gets back."

"Okay," Luke nods and heads off to find what he needs. Lorelai turns to go to the registers, but as she turns the corner she runs smack right into Dean.

"Big wall of Dean," she says, startled. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Dean replies quickly.

"Thought you were bagging."

"No, Taylor wanted me to set up this week's display of canned corn," he explains, gesturing to the stacked boxes next to him.

"Well, have fun," Lorelai tells him, nodding and walking toward the checkout.

"I'll try." Dean turns back to the end shelves, a tinge of guilt on his face. He'd listened in on their conversation. He hadn't meant to, but Taylor had set him up there to work. He couldn't help hearing. Granted, he could have tried to block it out, but the second he heard Rory's name he was involved. Tristan and Rory were fighting. About what, he didn't know. Rory clearly hadn't wanted him to know; she had acted as if everything was going great between them.

Why hadn't she said something?

He doesn't know why he even asked himself such a silly question. The answer is obvious and needs no explanation. He had gone there and verbally attacked her for leaving him for this guy; he wouldn't have wanted to divulge anything either.

Dean shoves can after can onto the shelf, his mind not on his work. Were Tristan and Rory going to break up? Rory said she was happy with him, that she loved him. Was that a lie too? A false front to cover up what was really going on? His thoughts are everywhere, myriad possibilities coming into his head. Some he discounted immediately; others lingered, begging to be further explored. His heart had felt simultaneously lifted at hearing Lorelai and Luke's discussion. On one hand, he truly didn't want Rory to be hurting, to be upset. There was no use in denying that, pretending he doesn't care. But on the other, he wishes that Tristan did break her heart, that they were over. But if that is true, what would that mean? If Rory Gilmore is in fact single once again...should he try to win her back? Even more importantly...did he want to?

_To be continued ..._

_

* * *

_A/N: Thank you again for all of your reviews.


	18. Paging Mr Darcy

_Chapter Eighteen: Paging Mr. Darcy _

Rory shuffles her feet through the thick snow, watching as some flakes cling to her boots while others scatter freely into the air, blowing onto her jeans or back to the ground. The wind is cold and harsh and though it's no longer snowing, it hurts to look up. The air stings as it hits her face. She reminds herself that she's almost home, a warm bed and a cup of hot chocolate waiting for her. She could snuggle into bed and pull out her tattered copy of The Phantom Tollbooth and pretend she's 10 again, with no cares in the world save that of Milo being stuck in the doldrums.

Her house comes into sight; no lights are on. She'd have a little alone time before her mother came back home. Some peace would be nice after her afternoon with Mary and Lane. Their time together had been spent being falsely cheerful, Lane and Mary tiptoeing around her like any second she would fall apart. Rory, tired of their concern, painted on a happy face.

The bus had dropped her off by Tristan's neighborhood and Lane and Mary had continued on to their respective homes. She had insisted on being left alone there, determined that she was going to talk to Tristan this time and that they'd be stuck waiting around for hours while she and Tristan talked and made up.

Instead, it was she who did the waiting. Antoine informed her upon her arrival that Tristan was not home. The lights had been on in his many bedroom windows and therefore Rory felt she had a pretty good idea he was in fact there. Whether he was there or coming home soon, Rory decided that she would wait for him. So she did. She sat alone in the DuGrey's front sitting room for two hours. Antoine gave her two cups of coffee and offered cookies, but not her company. She waited patiently at first, then impatiently. After an hour had passed, she asked to use the bathroom and conveniently used the one upstairs.

He wasn't in his bedroom. Or if he was, he'd heard her coming and gone elsewhere. She wrote a note and left it on his desk and gone back downstairs to wait. After another hour's time, Rory gave up. Disheartened, she took the evening bus back to Stars Hollow and walked home alone in the darkness, the sun setting earlier every day now.

Rory sighs as she stops to check the mail. Lorelai hadn't brought it in yet, but it was only boring junk mail and bills. Closing the mailbox, she turns to go up the path and is struck with instant de ja vu.

"This seems strangely familiar," Rory says to Dean as he rises from his place on the stairs.

"I come in peace," Dean jokes. "I brought you coffee from Luke's." Rory accepts the cup gratefully, taking a long sip.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Dean replies, switching the plastic bag he's carrying from one hand to the other. "Where are you coming from?"

"I went to the mall with Lane and Mary," Rory states, walking past him and unlocking the front door. She steps inside and flips on the hall light and also the outside light, so her mother can see when she arrives home later. Dean hesitates outside the door. "Come in," Rory gestures, setting her coffee down on the table. She stomps off her snow covered boots and then takes them off, putting on the slippers she had left by the door.

"I hope you don't mind me stopping over unannounced yet again, but I kind of heard something today I wanted to ask you about."

"What did you hear?"

"Well, not so much heard, as maybe overheard..." Dean corrects himself. He looks down at his boots, which he still hasn't taken off.

"What is it?"

"Your mom and Luke were in the market today and I was stocking shelves...corn, actually, and I heard your mom talking about you and Tristan. About you two fighting."

"Oh, you did," Rory's face falls, then she turns away from him. She walks into the kitchen, her jacket still on. Dean hurriedly takes off his boots and follows her.

"Did Tristan do something to you?" Dean asks, concerned. Rory shakes her head, opening the fridge and hiding herself behind the door.

"No...I did something to him. And I wouldn't say we're fighting. Fighting would imply that there were two sides talking. He's not speaking to me." She closes the door. Dean rests his hands on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, uncomfortable. "If you're here because you think you have to protect me from him or something..." Rory starts.

"No, it's not that," Dean assures her. "I mean...maybe it is. Your mom sounded really concerned about you...and about him too, actually. It just seemed like something really huge had happened and it struck me as strange that you didn't mention something when we talked-"

"You mean when we fought? I didn't really feel like telling you that Tristan wasn't speaking to me when you were in the process of yelling at me for being with him in the first place. It'd be like giving a match to someone with dynamite."

"When I heard Lorelai talking today, Rory...I felt so out of my head or something," Dean replies. "It's like part of me was thrilled. Thrilled that you guys were over, and that you and I could get back together."

Rory doesn't respond. She wants to say that she and Tristan are not over. Yesterday she would've adamantly told him so; two hours sitting alone in his huge, cold house had her doubting herself and their relationship.

"Then I realized that us getting back together...that wouldn't happen anyway," Dean says, sadness in his voice. "I could try to win you back, Rory...I could try. But the truth is, what would I be doing that for? You and Me...it's like a gut reaction now...it's inherent that I just want to be with you. No matter what you've done to me or what's happening between us...it's instinct. Once I take a step away, though, I see that it would just be me fooling myself. I wouldn't be able to trust you again, I'd always be afraid there would be another Tristan, another somebody, out there to take you away."

Rory looks at him, wondering if the only reason for his visit is to tell her that in the case she and Tristan did break up, he wouldn't want her back. It seems harsh as well as pointless to her. Dean can sense that she's questioning his motives and hurries onward to his point.

"Why I came over was that what I said the other night about me not being able to be friends yet...I think I was wrong. I think I can be your friend, if you want me to be. I don't want to hear about you being upset from your mom in a grocery store. I don't want to worry about you and not be able to come over here and make sure you're okay. I want that part of us back, Ror."

Rory stares at him blankly, processing this heartfelt speech slowly. Dean gazes back, his fingers tapping the back of the chair awkwardly. He can't read her expression.

"Thank you, Dean," Rory finally murmurs, her eyes coming back into focus as she realizes she has to say _something._ "I think you were right, though, the first time. I don't know if we can be friends."

"Why not?"

"Because...it would be weird. Would you really want to talk about relationship stuff with me? It would be awkward and strange and one of us would freak out, and...I don't know what else."

"Rory, look. I know that we definitely can't talk about Tristan and believe me, I don't want to. Maybe with time we can talk about other relationships and all of that, but I know that's not now. But I do know that you're upset and that I want to make it better. That's something that I _can_ do." Dean takes a video out of the plastic bag he's been holding and taps the case. "Friends can bring over Willy Wonka to cheer you up."

"You didn't..."

"I did," Dean replies. "Now can we stop this...uncomfortableness, or whatever this is, and get some junk food? I know from personal experience that in this house, bad food makes things good." He sets the video on the table and walks to the cupboard where he knows they keep their junk food stash. Rory walks over with him. "I'm sure we have something in here that can do the trick. A-ha...just as I suspected." Bags of chips and other assorted goods practically burst out from the cupboard. "Go put in the movie and I'll bring all this in," Dean instructs her. Rory smiles slightly and nods.

She picks up the video from the table and heads to the living room, stopping at the exit of the kitchen.

"Dean?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Thanks," she says, then disappears from sight. Dean smiles to himself and then begins gathering as much junk food as he can into his arms.

Half an hour and two bags of chips later, Dean notices that Rory's attention is wandering from Charlie Bucket, her eyes often looking longingly at the all-too-silent phone. Dean sighs, knowing that the brief grace period of her mind being focused on something other than Tristan had passed. He picks up the remote control and pauses the movie. Rory doesn't even notice.

"Rory," Dean taps her shoulder. Rory breaks out of her daze, her head snapping toward Dean. She glances at the paused screen and then back to Dean.

"What's the matter?"

"You can call him if you want," Dean tells her, looking down at the remote control in his hands. Rory shifts awkwardly in her place on the floor, also looking down. "I'm not going to get mad or freak out if you do."

"He won't answer. I've tried."

"Oh..." Dean sighs. "Maybe you should try again."

"I'e tried twenty-seven times in the past week."

"He won't even get on the phone?"

"He's never home...supposedly," Rory mumbles, tearing at a piece of thread that has come free from the hem of her jeans. She tries to rip it off, but can't. "Let's just forget it, I don't want to think about it."

"But that's all you're doing. Sitting here thinking about it. How is time number 28 going to hurt?"

"I thought we both agreed that talking about Tristan was something weird and uncomfortable and that we didn't have to do it?" Rory reminds him. "You said you wanted to cheer me up...the movie _is_ cheering me up. I swear." She gestures for him to turn the movie back on. Dean hesitates a moment, then clicks the play button. They are silent for about five minutes, both of them wanting to say something to alleviate the tension.

"Remember the first time we watched this?" Dean asks quietly, smiling faintly at the memory. Rory smiles too, adjusting the pillow behind her back.

"Yeah...I was mortified."

"Mortified?" Dean turns to her, surprised.

"My _mother_ invited you over, Dean. Our first date was not only arranged by, but also supervised by her."

"Well, there's worse things than having Lorelai around," Dean laughs. "As first dates go, I'd say it was a nice one...apart from her threatening me."

"Sorry about that," Rory blushes. "But yes, it was nice." They both smile at one another amiably. "I really thought it was going to be a disaster and that you'd hate me forever. I'm glad it wasn't."

"I'm glad too," Dean replies. He looks at her for a longer moment than is comfortable, the familiar urge to kiss her soft lips starting within him. He coughs slightly and picks up the bag of gummy bears from the table in front of him, popping one into his mouth and turning his attention back to the screen.

"This is one of my favorite parts," Rory states as Wonka leads the children into his factory. Dean holds the bag of gummy bears out to her.

"Want one?"

"Sure, thanks," Rory takes one out and settles back into her spot. Dean sets the bag of candy between them.

The moment he manages to get drawn back into the film, there is a knock on the front door.

"That must be the food," Rory says, getting up.

"Here," Dean digs a twenty out of his pocket and holds it up, gesturing for her to take it.

"No, I can get it. You got the movie," Rory replies. "Be right back." She walks to the foyer and opens up the front door, trying to find her own money in her pocket. Finding some bills, she looks up to greet Joe's familiar face but instead finds another. "Paris."

Paris reaches over and grabs someone's arm, dragging him forcibly into view.

"Tristan," Rory's face pales at the sight of him. He doesn't look too happy to be there.

"Rory." He replies, his eyes cast downward.

"What...what are you doing here?" She asks, looking between the two of them. Paris rolls her eyes.

"Well, after what happened in the mall today, I realized that the two of you both needed a kick in the butt if you were ever going to fix this. So here you both are. Work it out," She instructs them, pointing to the space between them as if they were supposed to come together and kiss each other right there and everything would be okay.

Rory looks at Tristan, wishing that he would.

Tristan looks at her, then looks away.

"Quit being so stubborn," Paris demands, pushing Tristan toward Rory. He shakes off her touch and turns around, like he's going to leave.

"Tristan, please don't," Rory pleads suddenly, not wanting him to leave. "I've been trying to call you all week. Didn't you get my messages?"

"No." Tristan says shortly. He sounds like a small child denying something he really knows is true, but is too strong-willed to admit it.

"I stopped by your house. I left two notes in your locker. I tried to talk to you after exams, I even waited by your car. I'm sorry about what happened. I had no right to say those things to you and I didn't even mean them. I was just upset and angry with myself and I was taking it out on you. It was stupid and idiotic and I would give anything to just take it all back. I can't stand the idea that we're in this mess just because I flipped out over a grade. I feel like a moron and I hate that I hurt you," Rory blurts out, feeling like she has to say it all as quickly as possible so he doesn't have the time to run away from her. He doesn't even acknowledge that she has spoken. "Tristan, please...look at me?"

"Quit being a jerk, would you? She's sorry!" Paris exclaims at him. Rory shoots her a look, knowing that her anger won't help matters.

"Rory?" Dean appears in the entryway from the living room, wondering what was taking her so long and why he thought he heard Paris' voice. "What's going on?" He glances at her and then at Paris, then follows both their gazes out onto the porch steps where Tristan is standing. Tristan stares at Dean for a long moment, then looks at Rory coldly.

"She doesn't look so sorry to me," He says snidely, turning on his heel and heading back toward Paris' car.

"Tristan!" Rory runs after him. Paris glares at Dean.

"Nice going."

"I didn't know he was here," Dean shoots back at her, annoyed. They go after Rory and Tristan, walking up behind the pair as they argue on the front lawn.

"Why is he here?" Tristan demands of her, gesturing toward Dean as he approaches.

"We were just watching a movie. He was trying to make me feel better," Rory explains. "It's not anything like you're thinking."

"You expect me to believe that your ex-boyfriend was over trying to _lift your spirits_ because we're fighting?" Tristan snorts. "You really do think I'm stupid."

"It's true," Dean cuts in. "We were just watching a movie."

"Stay out of this," Tristan points a finger at him, stepping toward him angrily. Rory puts her hand on his chest, pushing him back toward Paris' car gently. Dean looks at Rory, who looks back at him pleadingly. Everyone is silent for a second, Tristan still fuming.

"Rory, I'm just going to go," Dean says. He opens his mouth to say something to Tristan but Lorelai's voice comes in first.

"I didn't know we were having a party," she remarks, walking across the lawn toward the four teens. Rory hadn't heard the Jeep pull into the driveway; her mom must have walked from Luke's. "And what a motley crew we have here. Paris, hi, nice to see you. Dean...good to see you without the apron. Tristan...overjoyed to see you've finally come back to us. How ya'll doing tonight?" Lorelai looks at each and every one of them, knowing she had just broken up something potentially volatile.

"I was just leaving," Dean informs her. "I'm just gonna grab my coat." He gestures toward the house.

"Probably a good idea," Lorelai nods. Dean nods back and heads inside. Paris walks around to the driver's side of her car, the locks clicking and her lights flashing as she turns off her car alarm.

"I'm going to go too," Paris tells them. Tristan whirls around to look at her. "You're staying," she informs him.

"How am I going to get home?"

"Rory will just have to take you," Paris says simply, getting inside her BMW and turning on the engine. She pulls away from the curb, leaving Tristan, Rory and Lorelai standing on the front lawn. Tristan kicks at the snow covered ground with his boot, his hands in his pockets. Lorelai takes off her coat and drapes it over Rory's shoulders, since Rory had dashed outside without thought to a jacket. She points down to Rory's slippers.

"Don't stay out here too long, you're going to freeze your feet," Lorelai says, leaving Rory and Tristan behind. Dean exits the house and Lorelai meets him halfway down the walk.

"I left Willy Wonka for you inside. It's due back on Monday."

"Thanks, Dean," Lorelai replies. Dean forces a smile. He takes a long look at Rory and Tristan, standing on the sidewalk, and turns in the opposite direction.

"I'll see you," Dean says to Lorelai and heads off toward home. Whether he and Rory were friends or not, he would never truly get used to the sight of her with him. Despite that, he hoped that Tristan didn't crush Rory the way she'd crushed him.

Tristan watches Dean walk away, turning back to Rory. The front door of her house clicks shut as Lorelai disappears from sight, leaving the two of them alone. He lets out a long breath, which turns into icy fog in the air. Rory looks up at him, shivering. She is heartbreakingly beautiful; the light snow beginning to fall dusts her hair in a frosty white. He wants to kiss her and turn away from the sight of her all at the same time.

"I am really sorry, Tristan. You have to believe me," Rory starts, stepping toward him.

"Why should I believe you?" He asks. "Why was bag boy here?"

"He heard about you and me-"

"And tried to sneak back in and-"

"No, he didn't," Rory interrupts. "He brought me some coffee. He told me that he'd overheard my mom and Luke talking about us. He wanted to make sure I was okay."

"That's bullshit. He was obviously trying to get you back, Rory."

"He doesn't want me back, Tristan. He knows I'm with you. He hates it, but he knows that he and I are over. And he says he could never trust me again anyway...we would never get back together. He wants to be friends. That's all. And that's all that was. He brought over Willy Wonka. Candy and oompaloompas. Nothing romantic there. At all."

She tries to meet his eyes but he averts his gaze.

"Tristan?" She wants him to say something, anything. He sets his jaw tightly, determined not to answer her. He shoves his hands in his pockets. It's clear he doesn't quite believe her. "I can't stand this. You not talking to me is the worst thing in the world."

"No, it's not," Tristan replies quietly, and Rory knows he means that hearing the things he had heard from her ranks above hearing nothing from him.

"I don't know why I yelled at you like that, Tristan," Rory says, then pauses, sighing in frustration. "I mean, I do know."

"Yeah, your grade."

"That's not it, Tristan. It was part of it, but the truth is that I...I don't think I know how to handle us anymore." Tristan is silent. "I've never felt so much, so strongly, for anyone. And I know I've said this before. It's just the other day, Paris was talking about how you don't hang out with your own friends anymore-"

"This is because of something that _Paris _said?"

"No. Not entirely. She was right though. And then I can't even keep away from you for one night so I could study...and me and books have always had a stronger relationship than everything else in my life. And then you were going to spend Christmas with me...with my family, in my town..."

"You invited me, Rory."

"I know, I know...and I don't regret that I did..." Rory back tracks, knowing she's not making herself clear. "We're with each other almost all the time, Tristan. You're this huge part of my life now, and I'm part of yours. And then all I can think about is how much I want to be with you...to...make love to you..." Rory's voice gets quieter. "Even though we said we'd wait, Tristan...I can tell you now that I'm having a really hard time doing that."

"Rory..."

"And when we do have sex, Tristan...you're going to become a bigger part of me than ever before."

"You keep saying this like it's a bad thing, Rory. I don't understand," Tristan replies, taking a step toward her. The gap between them is slowly growing smaller.

"It's not a bad thing. It's terrifying. And this past week has made me realizing just how terrifying. I don't know what I'd do if you were suddenly gone from my life, Tristan. Everyday...you're just becoming more..." Rory searches for the right word. "More necessary. To me being me. And that's scary. Apart from my mom, I don't think I've ever depended on someone so much. If you left, or if something happened..." Tristan reaches for her, his expression soft and concerned now. Rory backs away from his touch.

"So on one hand I feel like I want to be closer than you than ever. But on the other, I know if I do that, there's no going back."

"Rory...I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to hurt you."

"How can you say that? Tristan, you just spent a week pretending I didn't exist."

"I never for a second pretended you didn't exist, Rory," Tristan chuckles bitterly. "You were on my mind every minute of every day. What you said to me, it absolutely... I don't think you realize what you mean to me...and..." He stops, not being able to explain himself more. "You can hurt me more than I've ever been hurt in my life. More than my parents forgetting my birthday, more than my brother leaving, more than anything."

Rory laughs slightly, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"So all we've established is that we can really hurt each other," she says.

"What we've established is that we love each other," Tristan corrects, once again stepping toward her. He pulls her close, using his thumb to brush away her tear. "And that's _supposed_ to be terrifying, isn't it?" Tristan kisses her gently on her right cheek, then her left. "Being in love means you have to take that risk of being hurt, right? That's what they always say in the movies."

"We're not in the movies."

"I still think they have a point," Tristan replies, putting his arms around her. Rory nestles her body close to his, the feeling of his arms around her better than ever. She draws in a deep breath, taking in his comforting smell and trying to catalog it in her mind to hold onto forever.

"It's amazing how much you can miss this in just one week," Rory murmurs and Tristan pulls her closer. She tilts her head up toward his, finding his lips and drawing him into a long, passionate kiss. "That too," she adds as they break the kiss, quickly delving into another.

"We should go inside," Tristan mumbles as he feels Rory shivering in his arms. "You're trembling."

"I'm not cold," she tells him.

"You're shaking."

"I am not."

"Come on," Tristan takes her hand, leading her toward the house.

"I liked what we were doing out here," Rory pouts as they walk up the front porch steps.

"We can do that inside too, you know," Tristan assures her, kissing her one last time before opening the front door. He takes a step inside but Rory's pulls him back to her, not satisfied with just one last kiss.

"You two are letting all the heat out," Lorelai interrupts. They break apart and turn, finding Lorelai standing in the doorway to the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. "In more ways than one. Shut the door, please? You can do that inside. Mommy is freezing."

"Sorry," Rory mumbles sheepishly. Lorelai looks between the pair, happy to find that their expressions have quite changed and they're holding hands as if they're never going to let go.

"I see you've worked things out, then," she appraises. "Which is good, because I was getting sick of seeing sad Rory. I like happy Rory much better." Lorelai walks over and pinches Rory's cheek, then turns to Tristan. "Keep her this way."

"I will."

"You better," she taps him on the arm. "Now take off your jacket and stay awhile. Willy Wonka will continue in a moment's time."

Tristan and Rory look at one another, really wanting to just disappear to her bedroom and spend some time alone, talking and having a bit of a makeup makeout. Lorelai rolls her eyes.

"You can play kissy-face when Rory takes you home. Wonka is waiting."

Tristan smiles as Lorelai goes into the living room. Rory squeezes his hand and then lets go so she can take off her jacket. Tristan does the same, kicking off his shoes. He retakes her hand and they walk into the living room. They are both pelted with gummy bears. Rory laughs and sits on the couch. Tristan sits down and draws her into his arms. The doorbell rings and Lorelai looks at her daughter, smiling.

"You order food before?" Rory nods.

"Best daughter ever," Lorelai jumps up, dashing to the front door. Rory snuggles in closer to him and he kisses the top of her head. He looks around the Gilmore's living room and then down at Rory. Lorelai re-enters, carrying a bucket of chicken wings, tossing the bag of celery and carrots to the floor. "Don't need _that_."

"Certainly not," Rory replies.

Tristan smiles; it almost felt like he was finally home.

* * *

"He shakes and says something in Japanese when you press his tattoo," Lorelai informs Tristan happily, clapping in excitement, as Tristan stares at his strange gift. "Go ahead, do it." Tristan takes one finger and gingerly presses the tattoo on the plastic Sumo wrestler's muscled arm. The small toy shakes wildly in its box, saying something undecipherable. Lorelai and Rory both laugh hysterically and Luke just shakes his head.

"Thanks, Lorelai," Tristan says, smiling. "This is..."

"Going in the trash?" Luke supplies. Lorelai looks offended.

"Come on! It's fantastic. Rory, isn't it great?"

"It is certainly something," she agrees. Lorelai pouts for a second, then smiles, reaching down and picking up another wrapped gift box and handing it to him.

"Okay...here's your _real_ present. Although I don't know what could possibly beat that. It's beyond me why you're not overjoyed."

"I love it, Lorelai, really," he assures her. She waves him off.

"Just open it," she tells him. He rips off the wrapping paper and opens the box, finding a baseball jersey inside it. He lifts it up to look at it. On the back is his last name and is written: Citizen # 9,974. On the front left lapel is his first name and underneath it, in quotations, "Dance King". "I figured that since you're a part of Stars Hollow now, you better make it official. Miss Patty gave you the nickname, you can blame her."

"Thank you, Lorelai," Tristan gets up and walks to her, giving her a big hug. She hugs him back fully, smiling widely.

"No problem, kiddo." As he pulls away, she picks up the Santa Claus hat from beside her. "Now will you wear the hat?" She and Rory laugh and Luke shakes his head again.

"Lorelai, don't make him wear it." Rory takes the hat from her mother and places it on Tristan's head, smooshing down his tousled hair.

"It looks fantastic," she kisses him on the cheek and Tristan groans, giving in.

"Fine, Santa hat it is then."

"Thanks for leaving me alone on this side of sanity," Luke grunts. Lorelai points at him.

"You're next, buddy."

"Here, Lorelai, this is for you," Tristan holds out a box. Lorelai grins, accepting it happily.

"You didn't have to get me anything! Oo, I wonder what it is." She tears off the paper like an excited four year old, then shrieks in joy. "You remembered!"

"What are those?" Luke asks, puzzled.

"Remington Steele napkin rings. Look! They have little Pierce Brosnan faces on them! Thank you, Tristan!" There is another exchange of hugs and then Lorelai plops back down next to Luke on the carpet, showing him her wonderful gift.

"I don't know how I'll top that...but I'll try," Luke states, turning away for a second. He moves the box containing the designer plaid shirt Tristan had bought him and the new baseball cap from Rory, looking for something. He rifles through the presents that Lorelai had gotten him as well.

"Did you lose it?" Rory asks him.

"No...no, oh, here it is," Luke says, taking out a gift basket from Barnie's Coffee that was for some reason hidden behind the couch. He hands it to Lorelai, who smiles.

"Coffee? Luke, are you going soft on me?" Lorelai kisses him on the cheek, then pulls the basket into her lap. "Oh, wow...there's like every flavor of coffee in the world in here." She unwraps the plastic from around it and sets it aside. She looks at the coffee mug and then notices a small velvet box sitting next to it. She stops for a moment, then glances at Luke. She looks into the basket, then at Rory. Her daughter is beaming, excited, her fingers playing with the opal necklace Tristan had given her for Christmas. Her face shows that she clearly knew about this beforehand. "Luke..."

"Open it," he instructs her gently. Lorelai takes out the small box gingerly, beginning to feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She opens it slowly, the tight hinges snapping into place and revealing a delicate but absolutely stunning diamond ring.

"Oh god, Luke...it's beautiful," Lorelai gazes at it, tears flowing freely now. "It's so beautiful." Luke takes the box from her and lifts the ring from its place. Rory and Tristan exchange looks of anticipation and excitement. Luke holds it out to Lorelai, his hand trembling nervously.

"Lorelai..." He starts, then stops. "I had this big speech prepared." He chuckles anxiously. "But now it all just seems so...All I can say is...I love you. Ever since I met you I wanted to be with you..." He pauses again, as if trying to remember his speech, but then decides to just say what he wants to. "So what I'm asking is, will you let me do that? Be with you? Forever?"

"Oh, Luke..."

"Lorelai, will you marry me?"

"Will you say that again?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Ha. Now I've been proposed to five times," Lorelai laughs. Luke rolls his eyes at her, letting out a small grunt. Lorelai smiles, reaching over and cupping his face with her hands. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Luke," she tells him, kissing him deeply. Rory and Tristan both applaud, then Tristan wraps his arm around Rory's shoulders, turning his head to kiss her temple sweetly. Lorelai giggles as she pulls away from Luke. Tears threaten Rory as well as she sees the huge smile on Luke's face. It is quite possible that he has never been happier than he was at that very moment.

Luke slips the ring onto Lorelai's finger and they kiss again.

"I never thought I'd get coffee _and_ a fianceé for Christmas. It's like I've died and gone to heaven. A weird heaven, but heaven," Lorelai says, holding out her hand so she can look at the glistening diamond now on her ring finger. Rory walks over to her mother, sitting down on the floor and giving her a huge hug.

"Let me see," Rory says, pulling her mother's hand toward her. "Luke, it's gorgeous."

"Please, Rory, like you didn't help him pick it out," Lorelai teases.

"I didn't! I only guessed he was going to propose, I didn't know," Rory says, an innocent look on her face. Lorelai smirks.

"You really do suck at lying," she states. "How long have you known?"

"Only a week..." Rory replies sheepishly. "Luke showed me the ring to make sure that you would like it. He did pick it out on his own."

"Well he has excellent taste. And here I was, thinking I was going to get something with cats on it," Lorelai jokes.

"It really is beautiful, Luke," Tristan nods in appreciation. Luke nods back.

"Thanks."

Lorelai and Rory both look at the two men, something striking them as odd. Suddenly Rory gasps, pointing a finger at Tristan.

"You knew!" Lorelai exclaims, knowing what Rory's accusatory gesture means.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rory jumps up, swatting Tristan on the arm.

"I bumped into Luke when I was buying your necklace," Tristan explains quickly, fending off Rory's attack.

"How long ago was this?"

"Three weeks ago."

"Three weeks? And you didn't tell me?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell."

"So I should thank Tristan for the ring's gorgeousness?" Lorelai asks Luke,who hesitates, then shrugs.

"Maybe he gave me a word or two of advice."

"That was it," Tristan quickly adds. Lorelai and Rory exchange looks yet again.

"Looks like we've bagged a couple good ones," Lorelai says, mocking that she's talking into a walkie-talkie.

"Let's take 'em home," Rory mimics back. Rory laughs as Tristan pulls her backward, wrapping her arms around her from behind.

"Well, this one should go start breakfast," Luke rises from the floor, offering Lorelai his hand to help her up. "If we want to eat soon, that is."

"Right," She agrees. "I'll wait until after we eat to get dressed. I like these pajamas." She re-adjusts her flannel pajamas as she rises.

"I like mine too," Rory says.

"I don't feel particularly attached to mine," Tristan gestures to his pajama pants and wife beater undershirt.

"Well I can always get you out of them," Rory whispers daringly to him after Lorelai and Luke go into the kitchen. Tristan raises his eyebrows at her in surprise. "What?" She asks innocently. "Christmas gets a person in the mood to unwrap things."

"You're awful."

"How so?"

"You know I'm one of those people who just can't wait to tear open their presents...I'm impatient to see what's underneath..." Tristan says, pulling her to the side of the foyer, away from the kitchen, and drawing her close. They kiss one another searchingly, their lips making promises of what's to come. "This is my best Christmas morning ever," Tristan tells her sweetly. Rory grins.

"I dunno...I think this ranks second to when I got my Fisher Price Pony. It had wheels."

"Gee, thanks."

"I rode it around for months and months. I wouldn't let go of it."

"Your mom just got engaged and you still think the pony is better?"

"I named it Sparky."

"Rory..." Tristan pulls her close again. Rory looks up at him.

"What?"

"I love you," He murmurs, kissing her.

"I love you too," She replies. "Now let's go eat. I'm starving."

"Now remember, don't eat too much now...just enough to sufficiently stretch out your stomach for the events ahead," Lorelai reminds them as they enter the kitchen. "I know Luke's breakfasts are good, but Sookie's Christmas dinner is not a thing to be trifled with."

"We're going to make cookies later if you want to join us," Luke adds as he starts scrambling eggs for breakfast. "I'll need help icing after your mom's hand gets tired five minutes into it."

"Oh, come on. That won't happen! I have strong hands."

"But you said you usually only last a few minutes at Sookie's," Luke points out. Lorelai rolls her eyes.

"That's because Sookie's a control freak who doesn't think I _frost_ well enough. I am certainly capable of frosting some cookies, believe you me," Lorelai responds strongly, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Although..." She holds out her hand, eyeing her ring. "I'd have to take off my ring to frost cookies and I don't want to take it off."

"Why would you have to take it off?" Luke inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"I might get frosting or sprinkles or something on it! And that would be terrible. So maybe Rory and Tristan should ice them," Lorelai says. Luke smirks.

"Didn't even take you a minute, much less five. I mean, we didn't even start the cookies."

"Well too bad you didn't bet on it then, you could've won some money," She replies. Tristan and Rory sit down next to each other at the table, Tristan's hand settling on her knee comfortably.

"We can ice them, Mom," Rory chirps. "If Luke bakes them, that is. I think I'd set the kitchen on fire."

"A Gilmore who truly knows her limits," Luke retorts.

"Gilmores don't have limits," Lorelai cuts in.

"We can do anything," Rory adds.

"We just happen to also be very good at getting others to do things for us as well," Lorelai laughs. Luke looks to Tristan, shaking his head in dismay.

"Get out while you still can. It's too late for me," he tells him.

"Why would I want to leave all this?" Tristan responds.

"Besides, if he leaves he doesn't get to go to Sookie's dinner and that would be a huge loss," Rory says. "We wouldn't want him deprived of such a fabulous opportunity."

"Indeed not," Luke states flatly, the mouths "Run" to Tristan. Lorelai gets up and stands next to him, hitting him on the arm before wrapping her own arms around his waist. She kisses his cheek as he puts more bread into the toaster. Lorelai takes half of a piece of toast that's already done and bites into it.

"God, you even make toast better than me. How is that possible? You just press a button."

"It's a talent," Luke responds. "Go on and sit down, the eggs are done." Lorelai sits as Luke hands them each a plate of scrambled eggs and toast one at a time.

"I think this is the first real Christmas breakfast at our house," Lorelai states, looking at Rory. Luke sits down next to her with his own plate. Rory and Lorelai both fall silent, pondering the moment. "I like this."

"I like this too," Rory agrees.

"We all like it. Your food is getting cold," Luke points to her plate. Lorelai grins and picks up her fork, already looking forward to many many more mornings just like this.

* * *

"Wow, Tristan...I thought my parents went all out," Lorelai tilts her head upward to look at the vaulted ceiling of the DuGrey foyer. There is a Christmas tree by the large curving staircase that has to be at least 12 feet tall, twinkling with white lights. The entire house is bedecked in the spirit of the season, gold and silver shimmering everywhere. "I feel like Clara...where are the Sugarplum Fairies?"

"The house does look fantastic," Rory agrees, her arm linked through Tristan's as he leads her, Lorelai and Luke deeper into the party. They weave through hoards of middle-aged and elderly socialites dressed in glittery overdone party dresses and tuxedos and bored looking children who obviously would be elsewhere than with their parents on New Year's Eve. Tristan hands Lorelai and Luke flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. Luke downs his glass quickly, but not as fast as Lorelai does.

"These things make me nervous," Luke mutters, adjusting his tie. Even Tristan was wearing a tuxedo. For the first time, Luke felt like the strange one in the room. Lorelai rubs his arm reassuringly, seeming to sense his trepidation.

"I grew up with this, and it still makes me want to run for the hills," She says. "It's a perfectly normal reaction." Lorelai looks around the huge room, searching. "I suppose we should find my parents, shouldn't we? They said they'd be here."

"Looks like they've already found us," Rory remarks, pointing behind Lorelai. She turns to see Emily and Richard approaching.

"Rory, Tristan, you made it!" Emily greets her granddaughter and her boyfriend, but stops short of hugging them both when she sees Lorelai and Luke. "Lorelai? Lucas? We didn't know that you would be here. What a pleasant surprise."

"We decided that being a New Year and all, maybe starting a new tradition wouldn't hurt anything. So, here we are!" Lorelai explains, setting down her champagne glass and grabbing another from another passing tray.

"It's nice to see you again Mrs. Gilmore, Mr. Gilmore."

"Please, call me Emily," she tells him. "And it is indeed wonderful to see you here, Lucas. It's a real rarity to get you out of that diner of yours!"

"Well it's the holidays, I do have an excuse to close down for the day," Luke explains amiably, not letting her jibe get through to him.

"Tristan, your parents really have outdone themselves this year. The decorations are splendid," Richard comments as he looks around the room, very pleased with what he sees.

"And the crab puffs are divine. You simply _must_ compliment your caterer for me."

"I will," Tristan replies, though he has absolutely no idea what business is responsible for the event. His mother switched caterers like Emily went through maids. Nothing was ever quite right.

"My drink is empty. Luke, would you like to accompany me to the bar? They have excellent Scotch," Richard suggests. Luke hesitates a moment before responding, but Richard doesn't take note. He's already walking away.

"Okay," Luke responds to his back, taking a step after him. "I'll be right back," he says to Lorelai, setting his hand on her elbow. She nods, watching him go. When she turns back to her mother, she is giving her a knowing smile.

"I must admit he does clean up very nicely," Emily says. Lorelai smiles.

"That he does."

"Mom, we're going to go find Tristan's parents, okay?" Rory informs her.

"When you find them, bring them around here, as I have yet to meet them!" Lorelai says pointedly at Tristan.

"We'll be right back," Tristan states, leading Rory away by the hand.

"It's so nice to see both my girls in love," Emily tells Lorelai, smiling kindly. "Now, what prompted you to change your mind about your New Year's plans? Don't tell me that something I said actually got through to you."

"No, sorry to get your hopes up, but it didn't," Lorelai replies, purposely needling her mother just for fun. "There's actually another reason why I'm here...besides that whole New Year's thing." Lorelai pauses, wondering what the best way to breaks the news is. "Since you mentioned being in love...why don't I show you my Christmas present?" Lorelai extends her hand to her mother, displaying the twinkling diamond on her finger.

"Why Lorelai, it's absolutely gorgeous! Does..." Emily looks at her daughter questioningly, hopefully. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"Luke asked me to marry him, Mom."

"He asked you to marry him? I assume you said yes?"

"I couldn't say yes enough." Emily is silent for a minute, leaving Lorelai guessing as to what this reaction means. "Have any thoughts you'd like to share on the subject, Mom?" Lorelai edges, wanting her to say something, anything.

Abruptly, Emily steps forward and pulls Lorelai into a tight hug, catching Lorelai entirely off guard. She almost spills her champagne down her mother's back, her eyes opening wide in surprise at her mother's unusual gesture. When Emily pulls away, she is beaming.

"This is wonderful," she says. "We must go find your father. He'll be delighted to hear the news."

Lorelai is even more shocked by this than the hug.

"Really? No comments about Luke's family background or his profession...or his clothes...or about me and my decisions? Nothing at all?"

"Lorelai, despite my grievances against Lucas, they are by far outweighed by the fact that it is apparent you love him and he loves you. And he clearly loves Rory as well. There's no question in my mind that he would do anything in the world to make you happy. What more could I possibly ask for in a son-in-law?"

"Wow, Mom..." Lorelai almost begins to cry; she hadn't expected her mother to actually embrace the idea so whole heartedly. There were always gripes and pointed comments; something had to give. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being happy about this."

"My only daughter is finally getting married. Your father never thought it was going to happen. I gave it a 50/50 chance. It certainly looks like I've won that bet."

"And the other shoe drops," Lorelai replies, knowing her mother would manage a snide remark _somewhere_.

"Am I allowed to throw you an engagement party? Because I've always wanted to."

"You don't have to do that, Mom."

"Did you not hear me just say I want to? I'm already planning it in my head, you know."

"It's really not necessary," Lorelai assures her.

"Lorelai, a chance for you to get money and gifts from people you barely know? I wouldn't think that would be something you would pass up."

"Well when you put it that way, sign me up!" Lorelai responds.

"Let's go find your father. I'm sure he has Lucas cornered somewhere, discovering to his dismay that Lucas knows absolutely nothing about stocks."

"He knows a little," Lorelai mutters as she follows her mother into the crowd. She taps her on the shoulder and Emily pauses. "And by the way, Mom? It's not Lucas, it's Luke."

"Luke is short for Lucas, what does it matter?"

"No, actually, see, his mother named him Luke. Straight from the get-go. His birth certificate says so."

"How odd. I _much_ prefer Lucas," Emily remarks, turning and continuing on her way. Lorelai rolls her eyes and follows her toward her father and fianceé.

Across the room, Tristan has finally managed to get his father's attention away from his business circle.

"I just wanted to let you know that we're here, Dad," Tristan says to him quickly.

"I can see that you're here, son. Now who is we?"

"Rory," Tristan explains. Rory steps forward slightly.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. DuGrey."

"It's nice to see you too, Miss Gilmore. I daresay, this is the first time I've met one of Tristan's girls more than once. You must have cast quite a spell," he says, his tone jesting but his words undermining it all.

"I suppose so," Rory replies, changing topics. "Did you have a nice time in England?"

"It was a very pleasant trip, thank you. Tristan's brother, Rian, is really making his mark over there. Perhaps someday Tristan will follow in his footsteps."

"Do you know where Mom is?" Tristan asks, not wanting to get onto the oft-annoying subject of his father's plans for his future.

"Off somewhere, I don't know. Perhaps with GiGi VanHausen by the fireplace, that's where I left her."

"Thanks," Tristan replies, not a hint of gratitude in his voice. Rory takes his hand and obligingly follows him to the next required stop. "He's something, isn't he?" He asks her as they weave their way across the room.

"He's not exactly Cliff Huxtable, but it's not like he's Mary Tyler Moore in Ordinary People either," Rory replies, knowing that telling Tristan his father was actually fantastic would be a bold-faced lie he'd see right through. Tristan pauses, glancing toward the fireplace and then off toward the bar.

"My mom and dad must've fought about the music again. She's already graduated from vodka tonics to martinis."

"The music?"

"It's a usual thing. He wants a string quartet, she wants to go old fashioned jazz band. He wants an opera singer, she wants a Celine Dion sound-alike. They always argue about it, because inevitably whoever won the music choice for the year gets criticized when their instrumentalists arrive for the evening and the other one is displeased with their playing. It just goes to show you how little they really have to worry about."

"I'd definitely go for the jazz band," Rory replies. "It has that New Year's Eve feel to it."

"Then you have a friend in my mother," Tristan states. "Hey, your grandparents seemed happy that we're here."

"Yeah, they really wanted to see me tonight. I think they're even happier that Mom came."

"Is she going to tell them about the engagement tonight?"

"Yes, I think she was planning on it. Though if Grandma and her get into a fight, she might not. It takes very little to throw her off her chosen course."

"I think she stayed true to it," Tristan points across the room, to where Richard is raising his glass in a toast to the couple. He and Emily are glowing with happiness. "Should we go over?"

"In a minute," Rory says, taking Tristan's arm and putting it around her shoulders. She leans into him, smiling. "It's nice to be able to look at them from afar. They all look so happy. Don't my mom and Luke just look_ right_ together? I look at them and it makes sense."

"It's good to see you two all cozy again," Paris' voice interrupts Rory's observations. They both look to their left and smile at their friend in greeting.

"Hey, Paris," Rory says.

"Hey to you too," she replies. "You two are a sickening sight to see, by the way. It's like something out of a romance movie, the little black Audrey Hepburn dress, the sleek tux, the big party in the big mansion, the start of a new year...it's like you're trying to make everyone envy you."

Tristan glances around, then looks at Rory.

"I'd envy me too if I saw Rory on my arm," Tristan says, then furrows his brow, wondering if that made any sense at all.

"We know what you meant," Paris stops him from trying to correct it. "Hope you don't mind me intruding on the perfect picture, but my mother went gallavanting off and I'm supposed to 'socialize.' Didn't really want to do that."

"Well, talking to us counts as socializing, so I guess you're set," Rory points out. Paris shrugs.

"I guess. I hate New Year's Eve. Everyone kisses each other at midnight and I have to stand in the corner feeling like a dolt."

"Maybe you'll find someone," Rory says optimistically.

"In the next three hours?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"I don't think so."

"Well Paris, if you don't find someone to kiss, I promise, I'll kiss you," Rory promises, half-joking.

"Me too," Tristan adds. Paris smiles sheepishly.

"Thanks," she replies, not enthused at the idea of resorting to kissing her best friend and best friend's boyfriend. "I saw your mom before. She looked estatic."

"Luke proposed a week ago," Rory explains. "I don't think her excitement is going to wear off for a very long time."

"Tell her congratulations," Paris says. "And tell her to make sure to sign a pre-nup."

"Romantic," Rory snorts.

"Realistic," Paris corrects. "I'm going to go get something to drink. You guys want anything?"

"I'm okay," Tristan says. "Ror?"

"I'm fine too."

"I'll see you guys later," Paris walks away, leaving Tristan and Rory alone again. They both survey the crowd for a moment, trying to find something or someone interesting to talk about.

"You wanna-"

"We should-" Rory and Tristan start at the same time, then laugh. "You first," Tristan concedes.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to take a walk or something. It's hot in here."

"We could go to the library," Tristan suggests. "It's quieter in there too."

"Sounds good to me," Rory nods, following him eagerly away from the party.

They enter the dark library and Tristan switches on one of the stained glass lamps on the dark wood end table. Rory closes the door behind them, the noise from the party almost completely muted. She walks into the huge room, never failing to be astounded by its size, no matter how many times she had been in it. She goes to one of the nearest shelves, gingerly taking an old volume into her hands. Tristan comes up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and bending to rest his head on her shoulder.

"What is that?"

"Whitman."

"I remember when I ran into you in the bookstore, you were reading this," Tristan takes the book from her hands, looking at it.

"That seems so long ago," Rory says, almost in wonderment. "I remember I was shocked that you could recite Whitman. Completely stunned."

"Glad to know I could surprise you."

"You do nothing but surprise me," Rory replies. "It's really quite mystifying how you do it."

"Well that's good," Tristan states. "Everyone needs a little mystery in their lives."

"Oh they do?"

"They do."

"Mysteries like...?"

"Like, what perfume you're wearing tonight."

"Splendor...it's my mom's."

"I like it," Tristan kisses her neck lightly.

"That's the deepest mystery you're going to unravel?" Rory inquires, giggling. Tristan snaps the book closed and sets it on the shelf as Rory turns around in his arms.

"Well, there's the question of how your eyes are so incredibly blue this evening..." "That would be my eyeshadow. Lane says it's meant to compliment my eyes...which are also due to my mom, if you want to know that too. Got them from her."

"You shouldn't tell me all the answers, you know," Tristan says. "Or else they aren't mysteries anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rory apologizes.

"Apology accepted," Tristan retorts, tilting his head downward. He's about to kiss her when Rory pulls away. He's startled at first, but before he asks any questions, she has his hand and is leading him toward the deep red velvet couch. She sits down, pulling him with her. He lets out a gentle laugh as he almost lands on her.

They fall into an easy kiss, Tristan's left hand lightly running up and down her stocking-clad leg. Rory's fingers play at his collar, enjoying the sensation of his lips on hers.

"This is much better than standing around out there," Rory murmurs as he pushes her back onto the couch, his mouth exploring her neck. "Can we just hide out here for the rest of the night?"

"I think your mom might notice that."

"Probably," Rory sighs as Tristan draws away from her. She frowns. "Fifteen minutes or so won't be a problem though, right?" She says, tugging him back toward her.

"No one will be suspicious of fifteen minutes," Tristan agrees.

"Then get back here," she says with a wicked grin, tugging on his bowtie.

"Hey! It took me forever to get that tied. It's a major pain in the butt."

"Sorry," She says, laughing. Tristan straightens his tie and then leans in to kiss her, his hands going to touch her hair. She swats them away. "Not the hair. I come out with my hair messed up and-" Tristan laughs now, shaking his head. He stands up, holding his hand out to her.

"This is hopeless, Mary," he says. Rory takes his hand, letting him pull her up. She smooths out her dress and fixes a stray hair that had come loose from her french twist.

"You're right," she admits. "We'll save this for later?"

"Definitely." Tristan goes over and opens up the library door. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Rory chirps, brushing past him and out into the hallway. They walk back to the party, rejoining Rory's family in celebrating.

* * *

"6...5...4...3...2...1! Happy New Year!" The quartet begins to play Auld Lang Syne as people everywhere throw their arms up in celebration, hugging and kissing everyone within reach. Emily and Richard share a sweet kiss and then turn to watch as Lorelai and Luke kiss one another deeply.

"It's a great start to a new year, isn't it, Richard?" Emily asks him, leaning in close to his ear so he can hear her over the noise.

"I'd definitely say so."

Luke and Lorelai break apart, both of them grinning from ear to ear. There's confetti in both their hair; Luke brushes it out of his own but Lorelai stops him from taking out hers.

"I like it," she explains. "Happy New Year, Future Mr. Gilmore."

"Happy New Year, future Mrs. Danes," Luke replies. Lorelai smiles, kissing him again.

"I actually like the sound of that," she admits. She glances over Luke's shoulder, spying her daughter and Tristan still engaged in a liplock. She smiles faintly and Luke glances back as well.

"You'd think they'd have to come up for air."

"Young lungs," Lorelai says. Luke chuckles. "But I bet we could beat them. You wanna try?" Luke draws her in for another kiss. Emily and Richard exchange looks.

"To love," Richard says, not knowing what else to say, and holds up his glass to Emily.

"To love," she repeats, and they clink their glasses together. They each take sips and then Richard wraps his arm around his wife's shoulders.

"You're just as beautiful as the day I met you, Emily," he tells her and Emily looks up at him, genuinely touched.

"And you're just as handsome, Richard," she responds, kissing him on the cheek. "I hope Lorelai and Rory are just as lucky as we have been."

"I don't know...we're hard to beat," Richard says jovially.

Lorelai breaks away from Luke, looking over at her daughter.

"Still? I give up," she says, out of breath.

Across the room, Tristan and Rory finally draw away from one another.

"Happy New Year, Tristan," she murmurs, leaning her forehead against his, focusing just on him amidst all the celebration.

"Happy New Year, Mary," he whispers back, kissing her again softly.

"I got kissed!" Paris' exclamation causes them to break apart.

"Who?" Rory asks, surprised.

"I don't know! But I got kissed!"

"Congratulations, Paris," Tristan tells her as she estatically hugs Rory.

"The New Year's draught has ended. I feel fantastic," Paris says happily. "I can't wait to go home and tell Nanny." She dashes off and Tristan and Rory smile at one another.

"Thanks for letting me spend the holidays with you, Rory. This has been the best time I've had in a long time."

"Don't thank me, it was purely selfish in motivation. I couldn't have you all those miles away in England..."

"Still, thanks."

"You're welcome." Tristan leans forward to kiss her again but Lorelai interrupts.

"Hey, that's enough of the smoochy smoochy. We're ready to go home. If we go now, we'll be able to catch Miss Patty leading a drunken conga around the town square."

"Oh, excellent."

"Why? It's so sad and pathetic."

"Have you ever tried it? It's so much fun," Lorelai says to Luke. She digs the keys out of her purse and hands them to Rory. "You drive, baby, Mommy's had one too many champagnes."

"You're leaving so soon?" Emily asks, walking up to the four of them, Richard in tow.

"Yes, we're going to catch the end of Stars Hollow's shi-bang," Lorelai explains.

"Would you and Grandpa like to come?" Rory asks. Emily smiles fondly.

"Thank you very much for the invitation, dear, but I'm afraid by the time we drove out there and partook in the festivities, it'd be far too late for us old folk. We're going to leave here in a little while and go home."

"All right. We'll see you on Friday for dinner?"

"Certainly," Emily responds.

"Have a safe trip home," Richard adds.

"You too," Rory says. "Happy New Year." She stands on tiptoe to give her grandfather a kiss, then kisses Emily's cheek as well. Lorelai hugs them both as well.

"Happy New Year," they both reply, waving good-bye.

Lorelai, Luke, Rory and Tristan exit the DuGrey mansion and step out into the crisp winter year, each one of them knowing that the following year would indeed be a good one.

* * *

"Ugggghhh!" Rory groans, flopping onto Tristan's bed face first, her backpack dropping to the ground with a heavy thud. It was their first day back from winter break and their teachers hadn't wasted any time diving right back in. Tristan lays down next to her on his back, moaning.

"My eyes are so tired and my hand is still cramped. I can't believe all the notes we took."

"I can't move," Rory states, her voice muffled, her face still buried in his comforter. Tristan reaches over and turns her over gently, brushing her hair from her face. Rory takes his hand, massaging his fingers softly. "Better?"

"A little," he responds. She kisses his fingertips, one by one.

"Better now?"

"Much," he murmurs, rolling closer to her. They kiss one another sweetly at first, though their mouths quickly begin to demand more and more of each other. Tristan moves on top of her, causing her to let out a small little groan. They continue for another few minutes, comfortable with their timid exploration. Tristan pulls away first, feeling himself beginning to get to get to the point where it would be uncomfortable. "We should study."

"Yeah, we should," Rory agrees, sighing as Tristan climbs off of her. He walks to his desk, picking up his bag from on the chair and setting it on the desk top. Rory sits up on his bed and picks up her own bag, searching for the right notebook. She watches Tristan as he takes off his Chilton blazer, tie and dress shirt, tossing them onto the back of his chair. He grabs a shirt from his dresser drawer and pulls it on. He glances at Rory and she looks away, blushing.

"Just getting comfortable," he says. Rory nods, taking off her own blazer and setting it aside.

"I hate these clothes. So much tweed," she says, unbuttoning the top button on her shirt so she is less choked. Tristan digs his binder, a notebook, and pen from his bag and sets it back down on the ground. He turns his desk chair to face Rory and sits down. "Why are you all the way over there?" She asks, confused.

"I sit over there and all I'm going to do is kiss you," Tristan lets out a short laugh. "We know what happened last time we did that." Rory sighs, knowing he's right.

"Yeah...so, where should we start?"

"I don't know...I actually zoned out for a little while in the middle of class there, so I got Henry's notes to copy them. We could see if he has anything that we don't." He opens Henry's notebook and smiles. He holds it up to show Rory the lovey-dovey doodles Henry has made about himself and Lane.

"I should make a copy of that to give to Lane. That would make her day."

"Really?"

"You should see _her_ notebooks."

"It really looks like I didn't miss much," Tristan states, skimming Henry's notes. "Just a couple of facts here and there. I guess I didn't zone out as much as I thought I did." His brow creases and he bites his lip as he concentrates, trying to make sure he has everything he needs. Rory doesn't even bother checking her own notes, too intent on watching him think. He looks adorable, trying so hard to focus.

"Hey, Tristan?"

"Hmm-hmmm?"

"Can I see Henry's notebook for a second?" She asks, not getting up to go retrieve it from him. Tristan gets up and brings it over to her. "Thanks." Tristan turns around to go back to his desk. Rory sets the book onto the bed quickly and grabs his hand, stopping him from walking away.

"What is it?" He asks, puzzled by the look on her face. She tugs him back toward her, pulling him down to her face. Her kiss is yearning, her lips begging him to forget all the dates and names that he had piled into his head all day long. They slip away so quickly that Tristan wonders if he'll have to re-learn everything he'd been taught. Not knowing where exactly she's leading him, he lets Rory pull him down onto the bed, nestling his body between her legs as her tongue plunges into his mouth. They move against one another and her back pack topples off of Tristan's mattress. Tristan breaks away from her to pick it up but she brings her hand to his face, guiding his attention back.

"Forget about it," she murmurs. Tristan hesitates, and Rory runs her hand up his arm, reassuring him that she didn't care about studying, not today. Their mouths meet again. Her small hands grip the hem of his shirt, wanting to take off what he had just moments ago put on. He complies with her silent request, pausing to finish lifting his shirt over his head. Rory moves her fingers through his now entirely mussed-up hair, smiling at the innocent quality the tousled locks give him. At that moment he could've easily been the wide-eyed virgin and she the experienced one; she felt like she'd been through this before, like she instinctively knew what to do when it came to him.

Tristan's mouth descends upon hers, resting the full weight of his body onto her. His hands deftly unhook a few of the buttons on her blouse but begin to fumble toward the bottom of the row, betraying Tristan's nervous trembling. Rory sits up to shed herself of the annoying garment and then lays back down. She shivers as her skin hits his cool bedspread. They begin kissing again, Rory's senses reeling at the touch of his bare skin to hers. This was what they had been denying themselves, these wonderful sensations and tremors, these erotic touches and loving kisses...their sense of abandon is growing by the moment. Rory can feel her reservations fading, melting away in the heat of it all.

"Rory..." Tristan breathes her name as his mouth slips down her jawline to kiss her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders. Her hands fumble at the clasp of his pants and suddenly he withdraws from her, his face saying more to her than words could.

"I want to, Tristan," she tells him.

"Are you sure about this, Rory?"

"Are you?" She responds.

"Yes," he replies. He looks down at her, his expression earnest and affectionate. She lies on his bed, her big beautiful blue eyes whispering hard-kept secrets to him with every passing moment, her body waiting to be touched.

"Yes," she repeats, twining her fingers in his hair and bringing him back to her.

"I love you, Rory."

"I love you too."

* * *

_**End of series.  
**_

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story._**  
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